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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 




From a portrait by Joseph De Camp in the collection of The Players. 

JOHN DREW 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



BY 

JOHN DREW 



WITH A FOREWORD BY 

BOOTH TARKINGTON 




NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

681 FIFTH AVENUE 



Copyright, 1921, 1922, 

By THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 

Copyright, 1922, 

By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 



All Rights Reserved *H 



-p\\* 



IP* 



W 



Printed in the United States of America 



DEC -6*22 

Vlo I 



FOREWORD 

How long ago is it, old schoolmate, since two 
"middlers" from Exeter rollicked down to New York 
for an Easter vacation, and on an imperishable evening 
glamoured their young memories permanently with 
Augustin Daly's company of players at Daly's Theatre 
and The Taming of the Shrew? 

What a good and merry town was brown-stone New 
York then, when one stood at the doors of the Fifth 
Avenue Hotel to see the pretty girls from all over the 
country parading by after the matinee; when the 
Avenue was given over to proud horses and graceful 
women; when there were no automobiles and only a 
few telephones; when Ada Rehan was playing 
Katherine at Daly's and when those two Exeter school- 
boys got the impression that the whole place belonged, 
in a general way, to the Petruchio who tamed her, 
John Drew! 

The earth must have swung round the sun a few 
times since then, my schoolmate, for now comes that 
gay young Petruchio before us with his Memoirs ! He 



vi FOREWORD 

feels that he has memories to entertain and to enlighten 
us; he has now lived long enough to have seen some- 
thing of the stage and of the world, it appears. For 
one, I am willing to read him. I have listened to him 
so often since that ancient night at Daly's; and though 
the words I've heard him say were words suggested by 
some paltry fellow of a playwright, yet I've had such 
entertainment of the man, so much humor and delight, 
I am even eager to hear him, now that he will speak 
in his own words of himself and of his life, his art and 
his friends. As to this last, though, he will have to 
select with care ; he could never tell us much of all his 
friends, were Methuselah from birth to grave his 
diligent amanuensis. 

What he has played most congenially, and with the 
manliest humor of his time, have been the roles of 
gentlemen; and there is a certain thing about his book 
of which we are already sure before we read it : therein 
he cannot fail to add one more to the long, fine gallery 
of portraits of gentlemen he has shown us ; and this one 
must necessarily be the best gentleman of them all. 
And it will be the one we have liked best, ever discern- 
ing it behind the others; for it was always there, and 
turned many a playwright's shoddy outline into a fine 



FOREWORD vii 

fellow. John Drew would play Simon Legree into a 
misunderstood gentleman, I believe. 

The reason is a simple one: he was born with a 
taste for the better side of things and the cleaner 
surfaces of life. He has found them more interesting 
and more congenial than mire, and if he should ever 
deal with mire he would deal with it cleanly. Here 
was the nature of the man always present in his acting; 
and I think it has been because of that and because of 
his humor — his own distinctive humor — that he has 
charmed the best American public throughout so many 
fortunate years. John Drew has been an actual feature 
of the best American life ever since his youth — indeed, 
he is one of its institutions; and there is a long grati- 
tude due him. His Memoirs may properly be greeted, 
in fact, as we should greet a birthday speech at the 
banquet we are too numerous to make for him ; that is, 
with cheers as he rises to address us. And then as we 
settle down to listen we may be sure we shall hear of 
many an old-time familiar figure besides himself, for 
John Drew has known "pretty much everybody" of 
his generation. His generation still continues, it is 
pleasant and reassuring to know; for he admits us to 
the intimacy of this autographical mood of his long 



viii FOREWORD 

before the fireside years claim him. And he may speak 
to us freely, with as good assurance as he has always 
had, that whenever he speaks at all it is "among 
friends." 

Booth Tarkington 
Kennebunkport, Maine. 
July, 1921. 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

John Drew Frontispiece 

Playbill, John Drew's First Appearance . Page 3 
The Mother and Father of John Drew Facing page 6 
The Earliest Picture of John Drew . 6 

A Daguerreotype of Mrs. John Drew, Senior, as 

Ophelia Facing page 10 

"The Hero of Gettysburg" .... 14 

The Old Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia Page 20 
Playbill, The Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia 

Pages 24-25 
Playbill, The Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia 

Pages 30-31 
John Drew Before He Went on the Stage 

Facing page 34 
John Drew at the Time of His First Appearance 

Facing page 34 
Ada Rehan When She Appeared at the Arch Street 

Theatre Facing page 34 

Josephine Baker (Mrs. John Drew) . " " 38 

James Lewis and John Drew in Augustin Daly's 

Play "Pique" Facing page 42 

Playbill of John Drew's First Appearance in New 

York Page 44 

Mrs. Gilbert, Miss Davenport, Miss Jeffrys Lewis, 

James Lewis, Augustin Daly, and John Drew, 

at the Entrance to the Consolidated Virginia 

Mine Facing page 48 

Fanny Davenport " " 48 

Playbill of Booth in "Hamlet" .... Page $$ 

ix 



X 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



An Early Picture of Maurice Barrymore 

Facing page 62 

Ada Rehan and John Drew in "Dollars and Sense" 

Facing page 70 

John Drew and William Gilbert in "Red Letter 

Nights" Facing page 74 

Playbill, Daly's Theatre, "Needles and Pins" 

Page 82 

Otis Skinner, Ada Rehan, James Lewis, Mrs. G. H. 
Gilbert, and John Drew, in "The Railroad of 
Love" Facing page 84 

Ada Rehan as Katherine .... 90 

Ada Rehan as Rosalind, John Drew as Orlando, in 

"As You Like It" Facing page 96 

John Drew as the King of Navarre in "Love's La- 
bour's Lost" Facing page 100 

Otis Skinner, Edith Kingdon, and John Drew, in 

"Nancy and Company" .... Facing page 106 

John Drew and Ada Rehan in "The Squire" 

Facing page 110 

Ada Rehan and John Drew in Farquhar's "The Re- 
cruiting Officer" Facing page 114 

John Drew as Petruchio in "The Taming of the 

Shrew" Facing page 118 

Playbill of "The Taming of the Shrew" at Strat- 

ford-on-Avon Page 120 

John Drew, Mrs. Gilbert, and James Lewis in 

"7-20-8" Facing page 124 

Playbill, "A Night Off," in Germany . . Page 129 

Edith Kingdon Gould as She Appeared with the 

Daly Company Facing page 132 

John Drew as Robin Hood in Tennyson's Play 

"The Foresters" Facing page 138 

John Drew and Virginia Dreher in "The Country 

Girl" Facing page 142 

Cartoon from Punch 146 



ILLUSTRATIONS xi 

John Drew, James Lewis, Ada Rehan, Charles 
Fisher, Virginia Dreher, Mrs. G. H. Gilbert, 
Otis Skinner and May Irwin, in "A Night 
Off" . Facing page 152 

Georgie Drew Barrymore with Ethel, Lionel and 

Jack Barrymore Facing page 156 

Maude Adams and John Drew in "Butterflies" 

Facing page 164 

Elsie De Wolfe and John Drew in "A Marriage 

of Convenience" Facing page 170 

Arthur Byron and John Drew in "The Tyranny 

of Tears" Facing page 170 

Maude Adams and John Drew in "Rosemary" 

Facing page 174 

Maude Adams, Arthur Byron and John Drew in 

"Rosemary" Facing page 178 

Maude Adams and John Drew in "Christopher, 

Jr." Facing page 184 

Playbill, Maude Adams and John Drew in "Rose- 
mary" Page 187 

Mrs. John Drew, Senior, as Mrs. Malaprop in "The 

Rivals" Facing page 188 

John Drew and Frank Lamb in "The Liars" 

Facing page 192 

Ethel Barrymore as the Rustic Maid in "Rose- 
mary" Facing page 200 

John Drew, Guy Standing and Ida Conquest in 

"The Second in Command" . . Facing page 204 

John Drew and Billie Burke in "My Wife" 

Facing page 208 

Scene from Maucham's Comedy, "Smith" 

Facing page 212 

John Drew, Reginald Carrington and Lionel 
Barrymore in "The Mummy and the Hum- 
ming Bird" Facing page 216 

John Drew at Easthampton, Long Island 

Facing page 111 



xii ILLUSTRATIONS 

Kyalami, John Drew's House at Easthampton 

Facing page 222 
Pavlowa and John Drew at the Time of the Re- 
vival of "Rosemary" .... Facing page 226 
John Drew 230 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



CHAPTER ONE 

WHAT a dreadful young man ! I wonder what 
he will be like when he grows up." 

The friendly audience that had come to the theatre 
on the occasion of a benefit for my sister, Georgie 
Drew, was thrilled with merriment when my mother, 
referring to me, interpolated the speech above. The 
play was Cool as a Cucumber, by W. Blanchard Jer- 
rold, a one-act farce, and I was for my first appearance 
playing the role of Mr. Plumper. The time was 
March 22, 1873; the place, the Arch Street Theatre, 
Philadelphia, then under the management of my 
mother. 

Before my debut the Philadelphia Inquirer printed 
an announcement that I was to appear for the first 
time on Saturday night. The article ended: 

John Drew (my father) belonged to a school 
of actors that is passing away rapidly and leaving 
no copy behind, we fear. Of that school Mrs. 
Drew (my mother) is a noble representative, and 



2 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

we would like to hope that her daughter and son 
are also representatives of it. Miss Drew has 
appeared but two or three times upon the stage, 
and the impression she then created was favor- 
able. Her worst faults are her youth and inex- 
perience, and both these time will overcome. Of 
Mr. Drew we know nothing. But remembering 
with profound gratitude the pleasure that the 
mother and father of these children have given 
the public, how great and conscientious an artist 
Mrs. Drew is, and John Drew was, we trust for 
their sakes that the old playgoers of Philadelphia 
will unite on Saturday to give the young players, 
just entering upon the career by which they are 
to live, a substantial, hearty welcome. It may 
be that for their own sakes they deserve such 
welcome; but whether this be so or not they de- 
serve it for the sake of those great artists whose 
children they are, and who for so many years gave 
of their best to the pleasure and entertainment of 
the town. 

We know of no opportunity so favorable for 
the public to show its respect for the memory of 
the great dead comedian, or gratitude to his wife, 
who survives him, as that which will be presented 
on Saturday night. 

The first lines that I spoke on any stage give an idea 
of the self-possession of the character of Plumper that 
I played in Cool as a Cucumber, even if they do not 
indicate my own self-possession and confidence. I 
was ushered on by a maid, a part played on that night 
by my mother. I addressed her : "My name, did you 



MKS. JOHN DREWS 

ARCH STREET THEATRE. 

UEGINS AT UUARTEKHEKORE EIGHT O'CLOCK. 

Business Manager and Treasurer, - • - - ... Jos. D. Murphy 
Stage Manager :..-....--.- Bakton Hill 
Musical Director, Pj;of. Chas. Weber 

SATURDAY EVENING, MARCH 22d, 1873, 

BKN'SFZT 



<»« which occasion her Brother, 



ike liis First A i>|ipar:ince OK-any Stage. 



'1'lit- Performance will commence with the Comedy, la Two Ac ts. cnllerl 

MORE PRECIOUS THAN GOLD: 

l.ndy Lonedale . MRS. JOHN DREW 

Lillian, her daughter „ Miss Ueorgie Drew 

Mrs. BJackinore „..Mlss Mary Maddern 

Sir Charles Rocket _ ...Barton Hill 

Lord Lonedale . . Mr. CJeo. Mctkiff 

Alter which, Mr. Charles Mathews' Comedietta of 

COOL AS A OVOm&Ei&i 

Mr. Plumper _ JOHN* DREW 

(His First Appearance on any stage.) 

Mr. Bai-klns.. ._ _ «. .. >fr. S. Hemple 

Frederick Bnrkins „. _ „ Mr. A. I<uwrence 

Jessie Honllon . « . _ _. . Miss Rosalie Jack 

Wiggins .... _ .. .MKS. JOHN DREW 

To conclude wltli the Melo-Drnina, in Two Acts, 

TIE SERGEANT'S WIFE: 

OR, THE VISION OF THE MURDER. 

Llsette, the Sergeant's Wife „ „_ .Miss Blanche De Bar 

Margot . MissG. Dickson 

Old Cartouche __ Mr. John Parselle 

Sergeant Frederick. : Mr. Atkins Ijiwrence 

Sergeant '.oiils _ „ Mr. Nagle 

sergeant George _ „ m „ Mr. F. Kniuht 

fiaspjirdo... „ Mr. Geo. Metkirt' 

I lentils „ _ , Mr. R. Wilson 

Robin Mr. Mark Qulnlaii 

Soldiers. Peasants. Ac. 

MONDAY EVENING. MARCH S*)h, the Bcnutll'ul Drama Ironi the French orM. M. 
D'Ennkkv Jt Plouvisr. by M Hakt Jacjcson, entitled 

xoo 

IN* WHICH 

MR. MARK SMITH 

Will sustain hit Great Original Chnractor. JACQUES FA UVEL, the Centenarian. 

PRICES OF ADMISSION: 
fliairs In orchestra Boxes • • • *l.50 1 Orchestra Circle Tickets . • 75 Cents 

Orchestra Beats l.on Dress Circle Tickets .... .10 Cents 

Ki-wrveii Seals In either Circle • - 1.00 1 Family Circle Tickets • • iG Cents 

Private Boxes ......... .s ts.oa 

John J. Hoi.xes. • .. Box Book Krjcpkb. 



From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
MR. PLUMPER JOHN DREW 

(First appearance on any stage) 
3 



4 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

say? Oh ! your master doesn't know my name. I say, 
you don't keep the stairs very clean in this establish- 
ment, Susan — your name is Susan*? You look like a 
Susan." 

I had approached my first performance with a great 
deal of apprehension, but when the actual time to go 
on came, I took the whole affair lightly and without 
the nervousness that accompanies and should accom- 
pany a beginner. In my case this is all the more 
remarkable since I had never at any time played in 
amateur theatricals, and I had not, even as a boy, 
played at theatre. 

My mother, who had picked out for me the charac- 
ter of Plumper for my first appearance, went on in the 
part of the maid that Plumper addressed as "Susan," 
just to give me confidence. She was greatly annoyed 
that I took the whole thing so lightly. She said that I 
was too good. I could not see what she meant, but she 
gave me to understand that I thought too much of 
myself. 

As a matter of fact, I did think at that time — 
though I kept the belief to myself — that Joseph Jef- 
ferson would have just about three or four years more 
as a comedian. Hard experience, countless rehearsals 
and the playing of many parts, in which I was very 
bad, soon dispelled any such idea. My mother, who 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 5 

had been acting continuously since she was eight, knew 
that in the theatre success is not easy, though at times 
it may seem a matter of luck. To do what she could to 
save me from my self-esteem she interpolated at my 
expense: "What a dreadful young man! I wonder 
what he will be like when he grows up." 

The papers sensed that though the part of Plumper 
called for coolness, suavity and assurance in all situa- 
tions — not that the situations were so very remarkable 
— I was a little too confident, in fact, a little too 
"Plumperish." 

The Philadelphia Morning Inquirer^ after saying 
nice things about the family, recorded: "He must be 
judged, if at all, as an amateur, and, so judged, his 
performance of Mr. Plumper was a very respectable 
one. If Mr. Drew had been a little more nervous, a 
little less sure of himself, we would have been better 
pleased, but he carried off the easily won plaudits of a 
most friendly and sympathetic audience rather too 
jauntily." 

The same paper compared my performance to that 
of Charles Mathews, the great comedian, who had 
played the part of Plumper in the same theatre. I was 
accused of smiling at my own jokes and the comic 
situations in the part. The Philadelphia Transcript 
said: "He never lost his self-possession," and the 



6 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Evening Bulletin: "Considering the circumstances, 
his self-possession was remarkable." 

Of course I had known the theatre almost from in- 
fancy. Early among my recollections are conversa- 
tions between my mother and my grandmother about 
changed conditions in the theatre, and that what was 
going on then at the Arch Street Theatre in Philadel- 
phia and Wallack's in New York was very different 
from the old days. These conversations between the 
two actresses would always end with some such dis- 
cussion as to whether it was the spring of '29 or '30 
that they had played in Natchez, Vicksburg and other 
places in the South. 

This Southern tour seems to have been made in the 
spring of 1829, for I have a volume of Shakespeare's 
plays in which is written on the fly leaf: "This vol- 
ume, comprising the entire works of the immortal 
dramatist, is presented to Miss Louisa Lane as a feeble, 
though an appropriate and sincere testimony of her 
extraordinary genius and intellectual worth by C. 
Griffin, of Natchez, March, 1829." 

At the time that inscription was written my mother, 
Louisa Lane, was nine years old. The act, Twelve 
Precisely, which she played so successfully, seems to 
have been a protean sketch or skit in which she as- 
sumed five characters. There is a lithograph published 





From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
THE MOTHER AND FATHER OF JOHN DREW 




THE EARLIEST PICTURE OF JOHN DREW 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 7 

in Boston in 1828, which depicts Miss Lane, eight 
years of age, in the five characters in Twelve Precisely. 
Of this performance at the old Chestnut Street Thea- 
tre in Philadelphia one of the newspapers said : 

This astonishing little creature evinces a talent 
for and a knowledge of the stage beyond what 
we find in many experienced performers of merit. 
The entertainment of Twelve Precisely is well 
adapted to the display of the versatility of her 
powers ; and in the Irish Girl she may, with truth, 
be pronounced inimitably comic. Her brogue and 
manner are excellent. The Young Soldier was 
also admirably assumed. 

In February, 1828, Louisa Lane appeared as Albert 
to Edwin Forrest's William Tell. The latter seems 
to have been so pleased that he presented my mother 
with a silver medal on which is inscribed : "Presented 
by E. Forrest to Miss L. Lane as a testimonial of his 
admiration for her talents." 



CHAPTER TWO 

I WAS born in 1853, and my birthday was Novem- 
ber 13 — the same day as Edwin Booth's. I was 
christened January 10, 1854, in St. Stephen's Church. 
This was my mother's birthday. My godfathers were 
William Wheatley, who was associated with my 
father in the management of the Arch Street Theatre, 
and William Sheridan, who as William S. Fredericks 
was the stage manager of the same theatre. My god- 
mother was Mrs. D. P. Bowers, one of the best known 
actresses on the American stage and a great friend of 
my mother's. She played Lady Audley, East Lynne 
and Camille through the country with great success. 
I was born at 269 (according to the new numbering 
709) South Tenth Street, Philadelphia. Later we 
moved to Buttonwood Street, and when my mother 
took over the management of the Arch Street Theatre, 
which had earlier been managed by my father and 
William Wheatley, we lived first on Eighth Street and 
then on Ninth, so that my mother might be near the 
theatre which was at Sixth and Arch. 

I vaguely remember the Buttonwood Street house 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 9 

and I know that it was to this house that my father, 
a successful portrayer of Irish comedy roles, came back 
from one of his several trips to Ireland, bringing with 
him an Irish donkey that was allowed to roam for a 
short time in our back yard and was then sold. This 
donkey seemed to me to be a huge steed and is, I think, 
my earliest recollection. 

I cannot remember a time when I was not interested 
in games. Riding was always my favorite sport. At 
a tender age I was sent to Madame Minna's Riding 
Academy. I had only had one or two lessons when I 
was thrown, and the horse stepped on the crown of my 
hat. Before I had time to be frightened the riding 
master put me back in the saddle, cramped my leg 
down and said: "You're all right now." I think this 
kept me from losing my nerve. 

I do not remember when I learned to swim, nor do I 
remember a time at which I did not row. I rowed on 
the Schuylkill River and belonged to the Malta Boat . 
Club, of which I am still an honorary member. The 
boys in my day played baseball, and, of course, we 
played cricket, being Philadelphians. I was very fond 
of fencing and took it up long before I decided to go 
on the stage. In the Arch Street Theatre there was a 
large space back of the balcony where we held fencing 
classes. In my early years in the theatre fencing was 



io MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

a very necessary part of the actor's equipment, for it 
was supposed to lend grace to the carriage as well as 
being necessary in so many of the plays. In later years 
I won a fencing championship of the New York Ath- 
letic Club. 

It is the house at 119 North Ninth Street that I 
associate with my boyhood. It was a conventional 
Philadelphia house, with white shutters and white 
steps. We were not in an exceptional or fashionable 
neighborhood. A great many of our neighbors were 
Quakers. My chief playmate was Isaac T. Hopper, 
named for his grandfather, the great abolitionist. 
Next to us in Buttonwood Street had lived the Quaker, 
Passmore Williamson, who was much interested in the 
underground railroad by which slaves were escaping 
to Canada. 

Passmore Williamson figured in a sensational case 
in the late fifties. Colonel John H. Wheeler, the 
United States minister to Nicaragua, was on a steam- 
boat at one of the Delaware wharves. Three slaves 
belonging to him were sitting at his side on the upper 
deck. Just as the signal bell was ringing Passmore 
Williamson went up to the slaves and told them that 
they were free. The slaves did not wish to leave their 
master but a negro mob took them ashore. The legal 
action and arguments resulting from this consumed 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



A DAGUERROTYPE OF MRS. JOHN DREW, SENIOR, AS 
OPHELIA 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE n 

much time and filled a volume. During part of the 
time Williamson was defended by Edward Hopper, 
the father of my playmate. 

Young Hopper's mother was a daughter of Lucretia 
Mott. I remember so well that wonderful woman, and 
how much she impressed me even then. With my play- 
mate I used to visit her country place, which in those 
days seemed so far out of town. It was at City Line, 
and the Mott place was called Roadside. First there 
was a long ride in a horse car to the North Pennsyl- 
vania train. Here on one occasion I saw Lord and 
Lady Amberly, who were interested in abolition and 
the reforms to which Lucretia Mott devoted so much 
time and attention. While I do not recall now any 
of the conversations, I remember that it was very dif- 
ferent from what I heard at home and most of these 
people talked what the Quakers called the "common 
language." 

I was taken to hear Wendell Phillips by the Hop- 
pers and the Motts. I was impressed because they were 
but I was really too young. 

One day I came back from Roadside and told my 
mother and grandmother that I had seen women sew- 
ing on Sunday. In our own household the toys and 
books of my sisters and myself were put away on Sun- 
day. My grandmother was somewhat surprised that 



12 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

people would sew on Sunday. Her own idea of Sun- 
day occupation was the Spirit of Missions, which she 
read literally from cover to cover. My grandmother, 
Mrs. Kinloch, had played in a number of theatrical 
companies in this country and England, and had been 
forced to withdraw from a company in New Orleans 
because she refused to act on Sunday. Sunday per- 
formances were then as now the custom in New Or- 
leans. As a very young boy I can remember going to 
St. Stephen's with my grandmother, who gave the re- 
sponses in a very loud voice which seemed to me the 
height of religious fervor. 

Before I was ten I went to a school at a place called 
Village Green, which was made a military school while 
I was there. I hated to leave home, but going away got 
me out of one difficulty. I had the greatest trouble 
with my speech. I talked with that same accent or 
intonation that Philadelphians, no matter of what de- 
gree, always seem to have. 

I can remember the extreme annoyance of my grand- 
mother. She would protest to my mother: "Louisa, 
I cannot understand a word the boy says." 

I would try and pronounce words as they told me to 
at home. It was no use, and while I probably im- 
proved somewhat under the instruction of these two 
actresses, who had been trained in the old school of 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 13 

elocution, I was glad to escape to the street and my 
playmates. 

I spent my tenth birthday at Village Green. I have 
a letter from my mother dated "Philadelphia, Novem- 
ber 12, 1863": 

My dear Son : I received yours of the ninth inst. 
today. Tomorrow will be your birthday, my 
darling — you are ten years old tomorrow. All 
your family wish you many, many happy returns 
of the day. I can't send you any birthday pres- 
ent, as you are soon to come home. Sorry that the 
shoes are too large, but if you can get along till 
you come home, I will get you a pair to fit better. 
Of course you can take your sledge back with you. 
Take good care of yourself, and as it is cold early 
in the morning, don't waste time in dressing your- 
self. 

All send love. God bless you dear. 
Your affectionate mother, 

Louisa Drew. 

From Village Green I went to another boarding 
school at Andalusia in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. 
Here four of us had a room together, and we had to get 
up in turn and make the fire in a Franklin stove. I 
was very young, the youngest boy in the school, and 
particularly poor at fire making. When my turn came 
I received jibes and advice from my three schoolmates 
in their luxurious and warm beds. 



14 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

This school was a sectarian one, and a place with 
some reputation in Philadelphia; but a friend of the 
family, who had boys in the school, thought it did 
not give a good education in the classics, and so I was 
taken out of boarding school and sent to the Episcopal 
Academy in Philadelphia. I do not suppose that I 
was a very good student. The things I liked, Latin 
and French, I kept up for years afterward. In arith- 
metic I was shocking. Together with the other boys of 
the day, I regarded my teachers as natural enemies. 
Most of the schoolboys were in some cadet corps. The 
older boys were drilling, because they thought they 
might be called to the colors in a year or two. I was 
the youngest boy in the corps commanded by one 
Major Eckendorf ; and there is a picture of me in uni- 
form, taken at Germon's Photograph Gallery, on 
Chestnut Street, which has always been called in the 
family "The Hero of Gettysburg." This was taken 
in July, 1863, just after the battle of Gettysburg. 

My first recollection of an officer was not Major 
Eckendorf, but my uncle, Edward Drew. On his way 
to the front he came through Philadelphia and stopped 
at our house. He was a captain in Berdan's sharp- 
shooters. He wore one of those Civil War uniforms 
with long, blue frock-coat effect, single-breasted, with 
brass buttons. He had long side whiskers called Pic- 




THE HERO OF GETTYSBURG 

This photograph of John Drew was taken in July, 1863, just after 
the battle. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 15 

cadilly weepers, which gave him a sort of Dundreary 
appearance. He showed my father an entirely new 
sighting device which was then being distributed to his 
men. 

School was much interrupted in Civil War days, 
and my companions who had fathers, older brothers or 
relatives in the war would disappear for a day or two 
and then come back somewhat subdued and with some 
evidence of mourning. 

In a thoughtless way I felt somewhat out of things. 
One morning I came down to breakfast to find my 
mother and my grandmother in tears. My mother was 
reading aloud a letter telling of the death of my uncle, 
Edward Drew. He had been killed in action. 

I hurried to school to declare myself in the "move- 
ment" because I, too, had lost some one. My uncle had 
seemed to me very smart with his brass buttons and 
wonderful whiskers, but the satisfaction of being in 
the "game" with my companions outweighed the loss 
of an uncle that I really did not know. Still, the fact 
that he was killed in action affected me more than the 
death of my uncle, George Drew, who had been sent 
back to Buffalo, where he died of wounds. 

The fall of Richmond meant to us a half-holiday; 
and then one morning on my way to school I heard that 
Lincoln had been shot. I rushed back to the house to 



16 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

tell my mother, who had not yet left her room and I 
knew that she could not have seen a newspaper. 

Soon after this a friend of the family took me with 
two companions to Washington to see the grand review 
of the Army of the Potomac. Though this trip had 
been planned somewhat in advance, the man who took 
us had not procured places and for a while it looked as 
though three small boys would not be able to see the 
soldiers. Opposite the reviewing stand there was a 
roped-off inclosure to which we were denied entrance. 
We pleaded with the officer who stood there, and when 
he learned that we had come all the way from Penn- 
sylvania he let us inside the ropes, for he was a Penn- 
sylvanian also. 

In the grand stand, just across Pennsylvania Avenue, 
sat President Johnson, General Sheridan and General 
Sherman. The latter I was to know well later and to 
see often at the The Players in New York and at 
Daly's Theatre. 

I was greatly impressed by Sherman's Army. The 
wonderful alignment, the splendid marching and 
bright arms were so great a contrast to the tattered uni- 
forms of the men who had seen much service. 

One other general I remember that day. Some fool 
person in the crowd rushed outside the line, well 
guarded though it was, just as General Custer, that 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 17 

wonderful figure with his long hair, rode past. The 
bouquet that was offered to the general frightened his 
horse, and the general was thrown on the Belgian 
Blocks. He had a reputation of being one of the best 
riders in the army, and when he remounted he made his 
horse caracole just to show that he was master of the 
situation. 



CHAPTER THREE 

IN these late years, when I have been playing Phila- 
delphia, I have made pilgrimages to the different 
places that were associated with my youth. 

My old school is one of them, the Episcopal Acad- 
emy at Juniper and Locust Streets; the school has 
moved out into the country towards Haverford, but 
the building still stands. 

I walk to Logan Square, where I attended a fair with 
my mother in the early days of the Civil War. It was 
called a Sanitary Fair, because it was held under the 
auspices of the Sanitary Commission. I have an album 
that my mother bought me there. 

I go to St. Stephen's Church, Tenth Street near 
Chestnut, now in a kind of sordid neighborhood. The 
church was rehabilitated a comparatively short time 
ago. The last time I was there I asked to see the bap- 
tismal register and found out that I was christened on 
my mother's birthday, January 10, 1854. 

There was a young woman doing some work in the 

church and, after I pointed out the entry on the regis- 

18 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 19 

ter, she said : "Oh, I have something that may interest 
you." 

She brought out a box containing a great many 
odds and ends, and from it took a silver plate. It 
brought back memories of going to Sunday School and 
then being taken into church afterward and being dis- 
missed by my grandmother, Mrs. Kinloch, before the 
sermon. That silver plate had been on my mother's 
pew in St. Stephen's for more than sixty years. On the 
plate was engraved "L. Drew." 

I walk down and look at the front of the Arch Street 
Theatre, which holds so many memories. It has fallen 
on different days and has been in turn a German, a 
variety, a Yiddish theatre. 

My mother took over the lease of the Arch Street 
Theatre in 1861, and the first play that I remember 
anything at all about is one called Scotto, the Scout, 
an ephemeral thing that was a concession to the great 
interest in the war. I do not know whether or not this 
was the first play that I saw nor do I know who wrote 
it. I imagine that it was hastily fashioned from stock 
material with a little added war interest. So far as I 
know it was never done in any other theatre. To the 
usual stock characters of the day was added the then 
prominent General MacDowell and a number of 
negroes. 



20 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Another very early play I remember is Peter Wil- 
kins, or The Flying Islanders. In this my mother 
played the part of a boy and engaged in a two-sworded 




OLD AJX.CU. STREET THEATRE, T» tttt , a Tnyr ,T»i rr a , 

From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

THE OLD ARCH STREET THEATRE, PHILADELPHIA, WHERE JOHN 
DREW MADE HIS FIRST APPEARANCE UNDER HIS MOTHER'S 
DIRECTION 

combat with a large, powerful man. Naturally she 
vanquished him. I was seldom allowed to go back 
stage, but we often entered the family box from the 
stage so as to avoid the crowds in the lobby. My 
grandmother usually accompanied us, and Friday 
night was our theatre night as there was no school on 
Saturday. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 21 

Of my father's performances I saw only a few. One 
of his best parts was Gerald Pepper^ in The White 
Horse of the Peppers. Tyrone Power had been the 
original Gerald in this play of Samuel Lover's, both 
in England and in this country. Gerald disguises 
himself as a "spalpeen" and comes back to annoy the 
holder of his confiscated land, 

From an early advertisement we read : 'The drama 
is replete with such incidents and situations as are 
required in stage representations, while the dialogue 
abounds with just sentiment, genuine wit, pure humor 
and natural pathos." The scene of the play was in 
Ireland about 1690, after the Battle of the Boyne. 

In the original version Gerald says that if his plot 
fails he will go to France : "Many an Irish refugee is 
there : for the Lily of France gives glorious shelter to 
the exiles from the land of the Shamrock." In the 
Arch Street Theatre version this line was changed to 
read that the flag of America would give "glorious 
shelter," etc. The absurdity of this struck me, young 
as I was, and I demanded to know of mother why this 
change had been made. She explained that it was a 
concession to popular taste, and that, of course, there 
was no other reason for it. In 1690 there was no flag 
of America, and the colonies were quite as English as 
Ireland at that time. 



22 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

My father also appeared in Handy Andy, Knight of 
Arva, or Connor the Rash, the Irish Emigrant and 
Samuel Lover's Rory O'More, all successful and popu- 
lar plays of the day. He did play other parts, and in 
the Tallis edition of Shakespeare there is a picture of 
him as Sir Andrew in Twelfth Night — a part I was to 
play many years later in support of Adelaide Neilson. 
But it was in the Irish roles that he made his great 
success. He went to California by way of the Isthmus, 
and from there he went to Australia and then to Lon- 
don and Ireland. I have a letter from him, dated 
"Melbourne, Victoria, October 17, 1859." It begins: 

I went the other day to buy a book for your 
dear little sister Louisa and among others I found 
this. I have cut these leaves out and send them 
to you because they speak of a little boy named 
John Drew. 

This is written on the back of the illustrated rhymes 
which begin: 

Who would have believed it, 

If it were not proved true, 
That so pretty a lad 

As was little John Drew, 
The pet of his sisters, 

The hope of his dad, 
Should have such an objection 

To washing and dressing — 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 23 

These verses go on to show how the youthful hero 
of this sad tale degenerated until his clothes looked 
like a coal sack: 

His playmates forsook him, 

What else could they do*? 
And at length a man took him, 

What else could they do? 

— Alas! Johnny Drew — 
Upon soot bags, to sleep, 

In a cellar so deep, 
And bound him apprentice, 

To work as a sweep. 

Upon his world tour my father was accompanied by 
my elder sister and my aunt. He came back to Phila- 
delphia early in 1862, played an engagement of sev- 
eral months in his repertoire at the Arch Street Thea- 
tre, and in May of that year he died. 

The Freeman's Journal, of Dublin, printed the fact 
of his death with black rules or borders around the 
column. He was very popular there and highly re- 
garded as an exponent of the Irish drama, which in 
those days was romantic comedy and nothing like the 
Harrigan and Hart Irish plays done in New York at 
a later period ; nor were they at all similar to the Irish 
Theatre of Lady Gregory and Synge. 

I saw a number of early performances that im- 
pressed me greatly. Three of these were by the greatest 



ARCH ST. THEATRE 



arcs wntecr, a rote sixth. 



LESSEE, • - - TWO MAS J. HEMPHILL I ACTING A STAGE MANAGER, WM.S. FREDERICKS 

Parquet, and First and Seeoad lien of Boxes. 25 Cta. Secured Seals. 37; Cta. Orchestra Seats, SO Cu. 
Single Seats in Private Boxes, 75 Cta. Private Boxes, $3. Gallery, 12; Cents. 

T«SM AHrmUDMn opM.il |MM cxfor* T. The Pmrl»rmmmr<- will wuct »i qaarter p*M« * tVUd 

8«MaBTka«>c<ia<uibeBnOaeearu«Tk<«ue,4viMilwd>7. Oftn Howv two lu, A. M. ... A V K 
TUMOKB J. INGLES MATTH1A* 



JKsT as ATATQ I3W PABIS"SS 



FOR THE FIR8T TIWE 



of lb* GREAT FAVORITES. Mr. .m] Mr, 



JOHN DREW 



WHO ARE NIGHTLY RECEIVED BY 



CROWDED AUDIENCES, 



MR. DREW IN THREE PIECES! 
MRS. DREW AS THE 



AH the Company in Favorite Characters 



COMPARISON INVITO! 



On Wednesday Evening, Feb. 23d, 1853, 



1 CHARIXS SEIJ Y'S tic* »bi D.t.M. cUe*. 



SATAN IN PARIS! 

Or. T HE MYSTERIOUS STRANGEEL 

.■■MsWsl, Irs. JOHN D1EV 

CEEQTTET, ■r.JOHVSRKV 

Mr. CONRaD CLARKE I Coram] „... Mr. NUI 

Iff. ROBERTS | 



CMUVuillt Mr. OS PALMER 

fcshrMR, 

lW*i.'... - Mr. BALL 

Kra - _.. MrFRAZER | UjL «.£ 



Mr. HAMILTON I Ml*. ** Lacanl 
F.STONE { MU.Se St.. 



MU-faflrukja* Mo. HOBKST 

Mad. to NtJcll* HraWIUUM 

M4V*>B*tk*»n HinCOOm 

Mr. BRADLEY > MnVlfa..;.. Mix LIZZIE BTLXm 



T» r» fcirMre* *r lk« 8occewf.il Dram, call** I 



IRISH EMIGRANT! 

BEeeelved ♦» Heodav Eve. tag wits Iantrntase Applause. 

O'BRYAS, Mr.JOHHBREW 



I Character he will Sia< - Tkwi IrUa Ul|riii'> 

RBj Cr»»K. „ Mr. HAMILTON , Willis M». niAXEM 

Mr.w.ru.i Mr PAULUN J Poll, Bokoliek Mn PLACS 

Ton Bciia*. „...„. Mt. PALMER 1 MurTn.cn Mk* W1LLUMB) 

»9««TTnt*» ,„.. „...««„ ^.^.^ ^, Jfa IQRWTO 



, nimta 

) Poll, BokoJiak 

i HujTmm 

1 Mn. GrMcrHtia^-..^...^.. 

24 



OVJJHTITKS, 



T. mtWt with tbo U.|h.W. TtM called 



THE HUSH TUTOR! 



DOCTOR OTOOLE, • 

Hwkklkt 



Mr. JOHN DREW 

wUI Mag. " Pmiif MaM, Mllfcl.e bet CMM 

Mf. PAULIJN t IrtCocntrjmu Mf.FRAZK- 

Mr.ROBERTS j 2d Comurau Mr II A U. 

.- Mr.MADLEV j Re...... Km WILLIAM 

Mr.NCNAN ' M.ry Mi» LIZZIE 8TEtt» 



TO-MORROW, THURSDAY, will be produced the 



BEAUTIFUL DRAMATIC POEM AND SPECTACLE 



wm w m m 



» 



(FROM 8JR WALTER SCOTT.) WITH 



Music, marches and Elegant Effects 

ME. AID MRS. JOHE DREW WHL BOTH APPEAR. 



i«nNr J* Malta. Ma* Lata* 1 



PLAYBILL, ARCH STREET THEATRE, PHILADELPHIA, 1853 

25 



26 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

actors of the day. At the Walnut Street Theatre I 
saw Edwin Forrest in Richelieu, and Edwin Booth in 
Tom Taylor's play, The Fool's Revenge, at the Chest- 
nut Street Theatre, and E. L. Davenport as Sir Giles 
Overreach in Massinger's play, A New Way to Pay 
Old Debts. I also saw such popular performances as 
that of Joseph Proctor in Nick of the Woods. And 
then there was that fine actor William E. Sheridan in 
a number of plays with the Chestnut Street Theatre 
Stock company but I do not believe that I saw him in 
any important role. Sheridan left the stage to enlist 
and rose to be a captain. He was wounded several 
times and one of his wounds disabled his hand. 

Our house in Ninth Street was visited by these men 
when they were playing in Philadelphia, and Sunday 
night there was almost always some one connected with 
the theatre for supper. My mother had played in so 
many companies and had been in the theatre so long 
that the Booths, the Jeffersons and many others were 
intimately associated with the family. 

I saw both the Prince of Wales and Charles Dickens 
in the "sixties." My grandmother took me to see the 
former. He appeared on the balcony of the old Con- 
tinental Hotel, looking not unlike the present Prince 
of Wales on his recent visit. There was nothing to 
suggest the rather heavy, bearded man who, in the 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 27 

summer of 1888, sent for Ada Rehan and myself to 
come to his box in the Gaiety Theatre, London, during 
a performance of The Taming of the Shrew, 

I heard Charles Dickens give a reading from "Pick- 
wick Papers" on his second American tour. So great 
was the crowd that we were shown to our seats through 
the stage entrance. My mother, grandmother, sisters 
and Robert Craig, a young comedian in my mother's 
company, went to hear the great novelist. 

As I remember, the reading was in the old Concert 
Hall in Chestnut Street where, with the Motts and 
the Hoppers, I had heard Wendell Phillips. 

Craig was late by reason of rehearsing, but he ar- 
rived at the reading in time to get what he wanted of 
the Dickens mannerisms and intonation and appear- 
ance. Craig had marvelous powers as a mimic, and 
he was particularly good in his imitation of the novel- 
ist. Nothing^ he did in the Arch Street Theatre was 
quite so popular as the skits he wrote and in which he 
appeared as Dickens. 

Upon the invitation of my mother Charles Dickens 
visited the Arch Street Theatre and saw a performance 
of Ours. This piece of Tom Robertson's was always 
in the repertoire, just as it was at Wallack's, and was 
a great favorite of my mother's. In asking Dickens 
to come to the theatre my mother assured him that his 



28 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

visit would not be made known in advance, and that 
he need not fear that he would be annoyed by curious 
crowds. He wrote her a very gracious and charming 
letter thanking her. 

As there were no touring companies in those days, 
plays were usually sold for the different towns. My 
mother had an arrangement with Lester Wallack, by 
which she had the first choice of all the plays that he 
bought from the English authors. When she consid- 
ered doing one of these, she would go to New York to 
see the Wallack production and judge it not only for 
Philadelphia audiences but with an idea as to its suit- 
ability for the Arch Street Theatre company. 

It was on one of these trips to look over a play that 
I first saw New York, that is the New York of theatres, 
hotels and restaurants. Before this I had been brought 
over to see the Great Eastern on its arrival after its 
first voyage by John Sefton, an old friend of the fam- 
ily. The boat was somewhere in the North River as 
I remember. We left Philadelphia early in the morn- 
ing and went back that same night. John Sefton, who 
accompanied me, had been years in the theatre and in 
the days before the railroads, when it was necessary 
to cross the mountains in a coach, he had been a mem- 
ber of a stock company in Pittsburg. 

When I visited New York with my mother we 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 29 

stopped at The Irving House, which was at Broadway 
and Twelfth Street, and dined at Delmonico's, that 
celebrated shrine of epicures, then at Fifth Avenue and 
Fourteenth Street. William Winter, who was then 
and for so many years after, a dramatic critic, came 
up and talked to my mother. Later, at Daly's Thea- 
tre, I came to know him very well. We then went to 
Wallack's to see Lost in London. Wallaces was at 
Broadway and Thirteenth Street, and the Rialto had 
had not moved so far north as Union Square, nor had 
Palmer's Theatre in Union Square been built. 

In Lost in London Madelaine Henriques was the 
leading woman. She was one of the first women on 
the American stage to acquire a reputation for dress- 
ing parts well. The part of Gilbert Featherstone was 
played by Charles Fisher, who was a member of Augus- 
tin Daly's company when I joined it; and Charles 
Rockwell and I, the two youngest members of the Daly 
company, were ushers at his wedding many years after- 
ward. 

My mother's company at the Arch Street Theatre 
was considered a very good one and ranked with Wal- 
lack's in New York. The company remained from 
year to year much the same. I remember a few of the 
players: Robert Craig was first comedian, and Lizzie 
Price, who married that famous actor, Charles Fechter, 






acting aid rain vavaaii, • w*. t, fudbices 

BU8HS88 Aomin TRIA8UBO, jos.d. muipht 



This Saturday Evening, Jane SL5, 1864 



42(1 AND LAST NIGHT 



<X tU CM.tlf fecWtl EA(t<t<Deet of 



FRANK DREW! 



WHEW U WUX APPEAR I* 



3 

Roaring Characters!! 





Tb« tofeiMM viB mmm viifc lb Kmfeai CasatoOBrf 

DELICATE GROUND! 

•AVOnOID. <8e«oodMaL*«iAppMhoet.> . . Mr W100U McIMTYRI 

ALPHOHSB, Mr OUra 

PAULnnt. .... . mim jnkphxr santT 



TWO OF THE BOYS! 

HECTOR, . in.T^B^i - - FRANK DREW 

M.pM, • -*| ^ J Start Rob** 

Mr BttocluBp, . .Mr On« Cco)i«., Mm E. Price 

Mr Walls I OlM*. Hit Mirlowt 

Mrftall Mi. Tcmtlrtoa. Mm M.rj C«r 

UrW«tk I Pfcrfcw, ._ Mm JoatphiM Bearf 

30 



Or, The Merchant of Venice Preserved. 

Am tatu.fy N»w tmif of $\*kfm,. 

8HYL0CK, ..... FRANK DREW 



Dak. of Yewc*, 



. Mr Stolt 

Mr W.Iiod 

' HrWaUb 

Mr Craft 

. MrWortK 



Mr HilHird 

Stoirt Robtoo 

Miw Jotepbine H«nrr 

Mr. BreWord 

MiH G.Minrr 



wi mmmm mm 



MR. TIMOTHY BROWN, 



FRANK DREW 



Mr; 
Mr I 

Mr. Tuoothy Brown, 



StaanBobaoa I Mra joaatbaa BaUb, 
. Mr Marlowe Mr. SaoMrtoa, . 



Mn Morlowc 
Mia E. Price 



CONDA' 



flOIlVB R^SS 

Tke Ultnted Tr.jrtfli.Doe, will bit. tb. booor of nukinf ber Fint Appearaacc in »o uiitelTMw SIMS ATIO WAL 
DRAMA, tdipted »nd .rr.^ed expre««]y for Mr*. Am by Geo. Mium, E»q., of Pbiladaiphia, oMrtled 



-CBOZLB RUSH 



BEATS AMD PRIVATE BOXES SXCUEBD THEEE DAT! IV ADVAJTCE. 



Poors open quarter-pa*t 7 o'clock. Oommenoe quarter of 9. precisely 



nucus or ADMiinoK 

Pirqtxtt and Brass droit. 00 Cent* 

taflyOtrel* 25 " 

©reflostra Beats, • 75 " 

PtiTito Boxm Aooordloa to tt*Jr L«»llty. MO IXTBA CHASCS? FOB BECTJfiED MATS. 
V. A Steam-Fairer Job Print, Ltagtr Bnil.tafi, PhUdi. 



PLAYBILL, ARCH STREET THEATRE, PHILADELPHIA, 1864 

31 



32 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

had at one time been leading woman in her company. 
This was before I went on the stage. Fechter lived 
at Quakertown, near Philadelphia, on a farm; and I 
saw him a number of times both in the theatre and in 
the country, but there was nothing to suggest the hand- 
some young actor who had been the first Artnand Duval 
in Camille. 

In my mother's company was a man named Frank 
Murdoch, a fine actor, who contributed to stage his- 
tory by writing that famous play, Davy Crockett. 
This play, which established Frank Mayo as a great 
favorite, was really not a dramatization of the life of 
the hero of the Alamo. The big scene of the play came 
when Mayo as Davy Crockett put his arm through 
the place in the door where an oak bar should have 
been and kept the howling, hungry wolves out of the 
cabin. 

When I grew older and was allowed to go behind the 
scenes and talk to the actors, I saw a great deal of 
Louis James, who was then a handsome young man, 
playing leading juvenile and understudying the lead- 
ing characters. At this time the business in the theatre 
was all according to very definitely defined rules; thus 
there were leading men and leading juveniles and first 
comedians and second comedians, old men and second 
old men, first old women and second old women, cham- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 33 

bermaids, now soubrettes, and leading women and 
juvenile women. The first old woman might be any- 
thing, from the duchess to a rag picker, but there was 
no doubt in anyone's mind as to who would play the 
part. 

When stars traveled in those days, they did so with- 
out support — Edwin Booth, for instance. Booth had, 
as I remember, a stage manager who came on ahead of 
the star and told the theatre exactly what was wanted 
and gave special instructions for the playing of cer- 
tain scenes. This could easily be done, because the 
lines of business were so well established. Then, too, 
in those early days, the actors studied other parts than 
those they were actually required to play. The reper- 
toire was standard and made up largely of the plays 
of Shakespeare and other classics. There were no so- 
called society plays, and there was very little in the 
theatre that had anything to do with contemporary 
life. To study any one line of business was, however, 
an education for that time, and all the actors absorbed 
a great deal of the classic drama and the things that 
pertained to it. 



CHAPTER FOUR 

WHEN my mother took over the management of 
the Arch Street Theatre, it was all renovated 
and was in pretty fair condition for the time, but it had 
been built in 1827 and had an unmistakable theatre 
smell that was unlike anything else. I do not know 
whether this came from the gas fumes or the combin- 
ation of the gas fumes and the new paint on the scenery, 
for there was always fresh paint in the theatre in spite 
of the fact that the scenery was not elaborate in the 
sense of today. A good deal of it was "flats" which 
were pushed on from both sides and met in the center. 
One half might be a cottage and the other a green 
wood. 

Occasionally there was a play that was called "a 
production," and required, because of its elaborateness, 
a good many extra rehearsals. One such, called Surf, 
by Olive Logan, I remember distinctly. The scene was 
at Cape May, then a fashionable place for Philadel- 
phians to go. Breakers were made by white cotton 
cloth and barrels. Just how it was arranged I do 

34 





JOHN DREW BEFORE HE WENT ON 
THE STAGE 



JOHN DREW AT THE TIME OF 
HIS FIRST APPEARANCE 




ADA REHAN WHEN SHE APPEARED 
WITH THE ARCH STREET THE- 
ATRE COMPANY 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 35 

not know, but in spite of the fact that the play was 
rather indifferent, it had a run of eight weeks, which 
at that time was considered a long run. Augustin 
Daly bought the rights for New York, where he pro- 
duced it with some share of success. 

A day in the Arch Street Theatre started with a 
rehearsal which began at ten o'clock in the morning and 
lasted about four hours. Sometimes when the bill 
was changing frequently there was more than one play 
to rehearse. The afternoon we usually had to our- 
selves for study. The performance began at eight, and 
Saturdays were our only matinee days. 

The season after I went on the stage a new young 
woman was introduced to the company. She came to 
the theatre with her sister, whose stage name was Hat- 
tie O'Neill. Their eldest sister, Mrs. Oliver Doud 
Byron, had written to my mother that she wanted her 
sisters to play in the Arch Street Theatre. From Mrs. 
Byron's letter my mother got the impression that the 
name of the younger sister was Ada C. Rehan and, 
thinking that a middle initial was of no help to an 
actress, she had the name put in the bill as Ada Rehan, 
although actually the name was Ada Crehan. Ada 
made a hit, and so by this accident of my mother's there 
was named for all time in the theatre an actress who 
was to be the Katherine when I was Petruchio in the 



36 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

wonderful production of The Taming of the Shrew at 
Daly's Theatre some years later. 

From that day when she appeared at the age of six- 
teen upon the stage of the Arch Street Theatre, I al- 
ways had the most wholehearted admiration and affec- 
tion for Ada Rehan. She became the confidante of my 
sister, Georgie, who, though younger than myself, had 
gone upon the stage before I had. 

Ada Rehan had a fault, if such it may be termed, 
which might have been a deterrent and a hindrance to 
her success on the stage, and that was her utter inabil- 
ity to keep from laughing if anything seemed at all 
funny. I remember that in one of the first plays in 
which we first appeared together, Kitty 0' Shi el, I was 
acting a red-coated British officer of the Third Geor- 
gian period, and, of course, I wore a white wig. We 
did not have dress rehearsals and when I came up 
to her on the stage at the performance, she burst 
out laughing and I under my breath tried to control 
her. 

When we came off the stage I demanded to know 
what was the matter. 

She said: "I couldn't help it; but you looked like 
a sheep." 

Ada Rehan never quite got over this upsetting ten- 
dency and liking for the ridiculous at serious times. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 37 

Years afterward we were rehearsing at Daly's Thea- 
tre The Foresters, by Tennyson. In one scene Maid 
Marian had to say to Robin Hood: "Your horn is 
known and feared through the forest." 

Each time she would say this I covered my nose up, 
and it set her laughing. 

Daly, who was out in front, was always annoyed 
when rehearsals were interrupted. The next time we 
reached this same line, Maid Marian burst into un- 
controllable laughter, and it was some minutes before 
she gained her equilibrium. This time Daly demanded 
to know what was funny about this line and, when 
told that horn and nose were sometimes synonymous, 
he very emphatically told Ada to cut the line out of 
her part if she could not give it without laughing. 

By that time the amusement that it caused was over, 
and it was given in the play. It scarcely seems a 
"funnyment" now; but Ada Rehan was so much a 
healthy, good-natured girl, even in 1892, that one was 
apt to laugh with her. 

Somehow we did not take ourselves very seriously 
in the days at my mother's theatre. I can remember 
one night — it seems now the humor of a very youthful 
schoolboy — filling the speaking tube which ran from 
the prompter's box to the orchestra leader with face 
powder. Just as the orchestra was about to play the 



38 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

overture I lured the prompter from his place and then 
blew through the tube as the leader answered the sig- 
nal. A very pale and much whitened orchestra leader 
received a great laugh from his men and the people 
sitting down front. 

As three or four other young people in the company 
were accused in turn, I had to own up. The calling 
down that I got from an infuriated manager-mother 
had better be left to the imagination. 

That same season Frank Chanfrau came to Phila- 
delphia to play his celebrated character of Kit in The 
Arkansas Traveler ', supported by the Arch Street Thea- 
tre Company. Ada Rehan, her sister, Hattie O'Neill, 
Georgie and I all played in this piece. Chanfrau was 
related by marriage to Alexina Fisher Baker. Mrs. 
Baker was a great friend of my mother's and had also 
been something of an infant prodigy or, as Dickens' 
Mr. Vincent Crummies would say, an ' 'infant phe- 
nomenon." My sisters and I had known the Baker 
children, Josephine, who in September, 1880, became 
my wife, and Lewis, almost from early childhood, and 
Mrs. Baker was naturally interested in my career. 

After the first night of Kit, Chanfrau returned to 
her house, where he was stopping, and Mrs. Baker 
asked him how I was. 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JOSEPHINE BAKER (MRS. JOHN DREW) 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 39 

"Oh, very bad/' he answered. 

Each night thereafter she would ask him and he 
would say: "Worse." 

Finally, one night without being questioned, he ex- 
ploded: "Oh, worse than ever. There is a red-headed 
girl that he is making love to so much of the time 
that he cannot remember his cues." 

The red-headed girl was Ada Rehan's sister and, 
while talking to her in the wings, I had missed a very 
important cue. My part in The Arkansas Traveler 
was that of Lord Fitzfoley, one of those preposterous 
imitations of a traveling Englishman with an equally 
preposterous valet. 

Chanf rau, as Kit, was in a violent bowie-knife fight 
with Manuel Bond, the bad man of the piece. I was 
to fire the shot from off stage which kills the bad man. 
There was no shot, and he was forced to die without 
it. 

To record that Chanfrau was annoyed is to put the 
matter mildly. 

The next season Ada Rehan went to Albany to play, 
and I to New York. Charles Morton, the stage mana- 
ger of the Arch Street Theatre, had written a play, 
called Women of the Day. In this I had a very fine, 
light comedy role, and Daly seems to have been im- 



40 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

pressed by my work. His company was playing in 
Philadelphia at the time, and he wrote my mother and 
asked her if she would allow me to join him. 

From her he bought the rights to produce Women 
of the Day in New York, and when it was played there 
James Lewis, who was later to become my best friend, 
played my part. 

In spite of the attention that this play attracted, it 
does not seem to have been any considerable success in 
Philadelphia, for during the run of the piece the 
North American said: 

It is not complimentary to the liberal intelli- 
gence of the play-going public that Mr. Morton's 
new play at the Arch Street Theatre should have 
met with but indifferent patronage. The author 
has written it with much cleverness, and the dia- 
logue is entirely free from any taint of vulgarity. 
So far as the strength of the company permits the 
cast is a strong one, and altogether the perform- 
ance is thoroughly pleasing. We have already 
spoken of the excellence of one or two of the 
performers, and to the list we wish to add the 
name of young John Drew. His improvement 
within the last year has been very marked, and 
in his present character we think he shows a de- 
gree of ease and self-possession which give 
promise of some high rank in his profession 
in the future. The piece is really worth seeing, 
and Mr. Drew is not the least attractive feature 
of it. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 41 

I talked over Daly's offer wth my mother. I think 
that she had become convinced by my work in Women 
of the Day that I might have a career on the stage, and 
she advised me to accept the offer. Some time early 
in January, 1875, I went t0 New York and reported 
for rehearsal at the green room of the Fifth Avenue 
Theatre, which was then as now at Broadway and 
Twenty-eighth Street. 

I was ushered into a handsome room filled with 
paintings, engravings and mezzotints of the people of 
the theatre. Fanny Davenport, Mrs. Gilbert, James 
Lewis, Sarah Jewett, George Parkes and others were 
sitting there. 

John Moore, the stage manager, introduced me in a 
casual way: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. 
Drew." 

I was very lonely that first day. I fancied that the 
others wondered why I was there. George Parkes was 
the first to speak to me, and then Jim Lewis came over 
and introduced himself. 

The first play to be done was The Big Bonanza^ 
which Daly had adapted from a German play. I had 
not met Augustin Daly in Philadelphia, and I did not 
meet him until the actual call for rehearsal was given 
that day. 



CHAPTER FIVE 

WHEN I joined the company at the Fifth Ave- 
nue Theatre, Augustin Daly was in the late 
thirties. He had been in theatrical management about 
thirteen years and had already had a varied, if not 
always successful, career. With his own play, Under 
the Gaslight — the first play in which a person is tied 
to the railroad tracks only to be released just as the 
locomotive appears on the stage — he had made con- 
siderable money at the Old New York Theatre. In 
1875 ne was confirmed in his ideas, and he possessed 
the courage of his convictions to an extraordinary de- 
gree. He was always willing to fight for the things 
he wanted, and he had a determination that seemed 
at variance with his slight build. 

Even at this time Daly had adopted the famous 
black hat which he wore upon all occasions. The 
somewhat conical shape of the crown accentuated his 
slimness. These hats seem to have been standardized, 
and one followed another without noticeable change. 

Richard, Daly's faithful black servant, who had 

42 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JAMES LEWIS AND JOHN DREW IN AUGUSTIN DALy's PLAY, "PIQUE' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 43 

nothing special to do in the theatre and was seldom out 
of it, received the discarded hats. Years after Daly- 
was dead I noticed one of these on a figure ahead of 
me in Sixth Avenue. It was Richard, and he still held 
his head very proudly. 

During the early rehearsals of The Big Bonanza, 
Daly was often impatient with the actors. He was 
tireless in the theatre and seldom went elsewhere. He 
was an excellent producer of plays, and he knew how 
to manage his stage. I think that his countless re- 
hearsals had much to do with the smoothness of the 
plays, for by the time a play reached production, it 
was cut and dried and there was no need for a tryout 
at Atlantic City or some other place near New York 
to find out what the play was like. 

Jim Lewis used to refer often to a conversation 
that he said he had with Daly. 

"And where would you be if you weren't in the 
theatre rehearsing?" the manager was supposed to have 
asked. 

"Oh, out somewhere enjoying ourselves," was Lewis' 
reply in the conversation that he had invented. 

As a matter of fact, we were all young and there 
was no reason whatever why we should not have re- 
hearsed at ten o'clock every day. But if in dealing 
with us he was not always patient, Daly did have the 



.1 



DALY'S FIFTH AVENUE THEATRE, 

MR. AUGUSTIN DALY, - . . Proprietor and Manager 



Btfl t U III S pr-risrly. 



ringr, nmij br ordered lor 10.30 o'clork. 



TWENTY-SIXTH WEEK-Gth SEASON. 
WEDNESDAY NIGET, PEBEUAEY 17th, 1^5 

FIRST PRODUCTION OF AN ORIOINAL SOCIETY NOVELTY, written expiwlj 
for this Theatre, arjd entitled 

THE BIG B0IUZ1 

To be presented after CAREFOL PREPARATION, with New Scene* by MR 

JAMES ROBERTS and MR. CHARLES W- WTTHAM ; New Faahlonable 

Toilettes ; New Fureltore a la mode ; r-ew Music by DODWOhTF, and a 

Cast that includes ALL THE FAVORITE ARTISTS. 

Jonathan Cawallader, Esq., Banker, Broker and Bondholder ; in f .et, 

the representative of "Money," Mr. Charles Fisher 

Professor Cawallader, his Cousin, an " A. M ," "M. 8." 'F. O. S.." 
Ac., <tc ; in fact, the representative of " Brains,". . .Mr. James Levis 

Uncle Kymple, a sagacious old soul Mr. W. Davidge 

Bob Buggies, straight from the Big Bonanza, (his first appearance 

here) Mr. John Drew 

Jack Lymer, M D., in want of practic? and a patient. Mr. B. T. Ringgold 
Mr. Alphonsos De Hase, a scion of the ancient famiry of De Haa-es. . 

Mr. George P.rkes 

Monser, a party who lives by furnishing " Points," Mr. Owen Fawcett 

Crumpets, a valuable family retainer Mr. J. W. Jennings 

Tafferty. Upholsterer Mr. W. Beekman 

Izard, Cashier Mr. J. Devean 

John, Porter , Mr. Sullivan 

Mrs. Lucretia Cawallader, wife of the Banker, with a soul above 

money Miss Annie. Glib am 

Eugenia, her daughter, heroine of a romance beginning at the depot 

and lasting for eight blocks with unexpected results 

Miss Fanny Davenport 
Mr. Caroline Cawallader, wife of the Professor, with a soul above 

science Mrs. G. H. Gilbert 

Virgie, her daughter, heroine of a romance tinged with dissolving 

views Mis* Emily Rigl 

Mile. De Vincey, " Modes Parisienne," Miss Yarian 

Balder, with a •' Floor to Let," Miss Nellie Mortimer 

Eliza, a maid at the Banker's Miss Gr ffltbs 



liWIHIS, MTFHMY HEM. 

AT 1.30, of 

Til BIS BOB 



ISov Slaeot umr open lor ten days ahead* 



III'JINEJ* MANAGER. 



Ma. STEPHEN FRSJE. 



From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

john drew's first appearance in new york 
44 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 45 

interest of his theatre at heart and for many years he 
maintained a standard of production and acting that 
has lasted in the minds of old theatregoers. 

After the first day of rehearsal of The Big Bonanza, 
my shyness wore off somewhat and I felt less lonely. 
I was cast for Bob Ruggles, a young and impecunious 
lover of the heroine, the part to be played by Fanny 
Davenport. Daly was disappointed because I could 
not play the piano. I had taken lessons from one of 
the women of the Arch Street Theatre Company when 
I was quite young, but I had not been encouraged to 
keep up studying, and I never really got beyond the 
"When-a-feller-needs-a-friend" stage of the Briggs 
cartoon. In the first play in New York I went through 
all the motions of piano playing while some one played 
off stage. 

The Big Bonanza turned out to be a bright and 
amusing play, and was a great success. It would seem 
very thin now, this story of the aged bookworm who 
gets his market tips from a secondhand bookseller who 
has a stall in Wall Street. When told to sell "Big 
Bonanza," he buys it because he has none to sell. 

The New York papers were kind to me upon my 
debut. The Times said : "Mr. John Drew, of Phila- 
delphia, made his first appearance in this city. Proof 
that Mr. Drew is still a novice was not wanting but an 



46 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

agreeable freedom from affectation and a frank and 
welcome heartiness of style were perceptible in his 
effort here and augured well for his future." The 
Evening Mail's comment was: "He acts with intel- 
ligence and energy and although by no means a para- 
gon gives promise of marked excellence." 

Daly had adapted The Big Bonanza from the Ger- 
man play Ultimo, by Von Mosher. He had made 
many adaptations from the German, and it was from 
this source that he got some of his biggest successes 
in later years, Nancy and Company, A Night Off, and 
The Railroad of Love. This play brought together 
three of the performers who were later to be associated 
in so many plays, Mrs. Gilbert, James Lewis and my- 
self. With the addition of Ada Rehan we later became 
what was jestingly known as "The Big Four" — named 
from the railroad. The program of the Fifth Avenue 
Theatre contained this announcement: 

The Big Bonanza is the second of the series of 
contemporaneous comedies with which Mr. Daly 
follows his season of old comedy revivals. The 
comedy is placed upon the stage under Mr. Daly's 
personal superintendence, with new scenery, new 
toilettes, new furniture, and appointments. The 
cast embraces the favorite artists of the company, 
and introduces to the New York public Mr. John 
Drew, who, aside from his own merits, ought to 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 47 

be welcome on account of the fame of his mother, 
the celebrated Philadelphia actress and manager- 
ess, and the memory of his father, who was one 
of the Irish comedians of the day. 

During the run of The Big Bonanza the Daly Com- 
pany played a special holiday matinee in Philadelphia 
and returned to play the night performance as usual. 
According to The Philadelphia Age the trip was made 
"without accident of any sort." 

In June, Daly decided, having made a pronounced 
success with The Big Bonanza, to make a trip across 
the continent. Chicago was our first stop. We took 
with us, not only our New York success, but a number 
of other plays. There was Boucicault's London Assur- 
ance; Byron's Weak Women, which had been done by 
the company before I joined; a popular farce, The 
Rough Diamond; Gilbert's Charity, and a version of 
Oliver Twist, Fanny Davenport was very fond of 
the last two, as they gave her character roles which 
were a contrast to the well-dressed, light-comedy char- 
acters that made up most of the Daly repertoire. On 
this tour we also played Bronson Howard's famous 
play, Saratoga, with which, under the title of Brighton, 
Charles Wyndham made so great a hit in England. 

San Francisco in 1875 was a live town. We stayed 



48 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

at the Occidental, and on July twelfth we opened with 
London Assurance in Piatt's Hall. According to the 
playbill of that night, this play was to be "As repre- 
sented at the Fifth Avenue Theatre to crowded and 
laughter-convulsed audiences." Also from the play- 
bill: "The new scenery to be unfolded this evening 
will be found in Act 2 — The park, and in Act 3 — 
Oak Hall, Gloucestershire." It turned out that there 
was little room for all this scenery and after two 
nights we moved to Emerson's Minstrel Hall. 

The Big Bonanza was not a success here, for Crane 
and James O'Neill had already played another ver- 
sion of the same play. We visited Chinatown and 
saw some of the interminable plays in the Chinese 
Theatre, at least we were told that one of the plays 
that we saw had still some days to go. Outwardly 
Chinatown was a very different place from the place 
that I saw on numerous later trips. 

In San Francisco I met John McCullough, who 
was running the California Theatre on regular stock 
lines, playing the usual plays that were popular at the 
time. On this first trip I met John Mackay, the father 
of Clarence Mackay, and James Fair, of the celebrated 
mining outfit, Mackay, Fair, Flood and O'Brien. They 
owned the Consolidated Virginia Mine in Virginia 
City, Nevada. 




IN THIS GROUP ARE MRS. GILBERT, MISS DAVENPORT, MISS JEFFRYS 
LEWIS, JAMES LEWIS, AUGUSTIN DALY, AND JOHN DREW, MADE UP IN 
WORKING CLOTHES, AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE CONSOLIDATED VIR- 
GINIA MINE 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
FANNY DAVENPORT 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 49 

We visited the mine, and there is a picture of Mrs. 
Gilbert, Miss Davenport, Miss Jeffrys Lewis, James 
Lewis, Augustin Daly and myself at the entrance to 
the mine, all made-up in workingmen's clothes. We 
went down to the depth of some two thousand feet, 
and then to some lower level on a very small lift. It 
was very warm in this big silver mine, and Mr. Fair 
had a man following us with iced champagne and we 
stopped to partake now and then. 

Virginia City was really impressive to us in those 
days. It was crude and new, and the streets were 
crowded with men ; but they were most deferential and 
respectful to the women of our company. There was 
an Indian reservation near there, and we saw a fight 
between a white man and an Indian. Neither had any 
idea of science, but the crowd did not seem to mind, 
and the combatants dealt each other horrible blows. 
The white man finally overcame the Indian who, we 
were assured, was in no way hostile, and the fight was 
purely a personal affair. 

On our way back East we played in Salt Lake City. 
The theatre, which had been built in the late fifties or 
early sixties, was a very fine one. I have played in the 
same house many times since, and it has always been, 
as then, well run and well cared for ; but in those days 
it had a big, fine green room, which was later changed 



50 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

into a dressing room. In this theatre, when it was 
the home of a stock company, Maude Adams' mother, 
whose real name was Kiskadden, played leading 
women for many years. 

Curiously enough, the play selected for our opening 
bill in Salt Lake City was Bronson Howard's Sara- 
toga. Elsewhere the complications resulting from the 
pursuit of the hero, Bob Sackett, by three infatuated 
women had been considered excruciatingly funny, but 
the Mormons, as Brigham Young himself pointed out 
to us, would have solved a problem like Sacketfs so 
easily that there would have been no play. 

The day after we opened, Miss Davenport, Mrs. 
Gilbert, Jim Lewis and Mrs. Lewis, Daly and I went 
to call upon Brigham Young, who gave us a sort of 
audience at his official residence. He seemed a famil- 
iar figure and looked very much like his pictures, ex- 
cept that he was older and somewhat feeble, and he 
had a growth or goiter that was said to have been 
caused by drinking snow water from the mountains. 
Of course this must have been false, for the water was 
perfectly pellucid. 

He expressed a great deal of interest in our work 
and particularly in the play, Saratoga. "But why," 
he asked, turning to Lewis, who played the part of 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 51 

Bob Sackett, the pursued hero, "should the author have 
made such a complication out of the efforts of your 
character to get away from the three women who are 
in love with him*?" 

Jim Lewis was somewhat puzzled by the question. 
"What else," he asked, "could Sackett do but try to 
escape?" 

"Marry them all," was Brigham Young's answer. 

He said this so seriously that none of us knew 
whether he meant his solution as a wheeze or not, and 
we talked of other things. 

He told us that when he was a young man he could 
speak with such distinctness and with so much volume 
that he could be heard for great distances. I hesitate 
to guess now what these figures were, but they were 
very impressive, even taking into consideration the 
rarified atmosphere. Our visit to Brigham Young was 
not so profitable in experience, nor did it yield so much 
material as Artemus Ward got out of his visit to the 
Mormons. 

The manager of the hotel in Salt Lake City pro- 
vided us with excellent horses, and we rode round on 
these to see the surrounding country. We visited 
Camp Douglas, which had been established as an army 
post when the Mormons proved rebellious. It was 



52 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

here that I first met General Sheridan, who was then 
on a tour of inspection. 

Before we left we played The Rough Diamond, and 
the Salt Lake City papers made much of a line that 
Lewis interpolated. As I looked young for the char- 
acter I was to play, I made up with a very elaborate 
beard. 

As I came on the stage Lewis who had a way of inter- 
polating lines naturally and still letting the audience 
in on the joke, said: "Here comes the Prince of 
Wales." He who was later Edward the Seventh had 
made the wearing of a beard the fashion in the early 
seventies and the jest, though feeble, went well in 
Salt Lake City. 

I remember another occasion, some years afterward, 
when Lewis, annoyed at having to play on Sunday 
in Chicago, took a great many liberties with the text 
of his part. The seats down front were all occupied 
by circus people, who did not have to work on Sunday. 
They had come to see a former colleague, Miss Rose 
Stokes, who appeared in one scene where there was a 
Maypole dance. She had been a rider, but after 
an accident had given up the tanbark ring for the 
stage. 

Charles Fisher played an old man and wore white, 
muttonchop side whiskers. He was just about to make 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE S3 

a dignified entrance when Lewis who was on the stage 
called to him, "Walk right in, Mr. Forepaugh." 

The circus people were delighted and stopped the 
play for some minutes. In truth, Fisher looked not 
unlike the dignified kindly old gentleman whose pic- 
tures adorned circus bills for many years. 



CHAPTER SIX 

IN October of that year we — that is, the Daly Com- 
pany — appeared with Edwin Booth. The season 
had been postponed, as Booth had been thrown from 
a carriage, and when he first appeared at rehearsals his 
arm was in a sling. In Hamlet, Charles Fisher was 
Polonius; William Davidge, the Grave Digger; Har- 
kins, the Ghost; Hardenberg, the King; Maurice Bar- 
rymore, who was soon after to be my brother-in-law, 
Laertes; Jeffrys Lewis, Ophelia; and Alice Grey, the 
Queen. I played Rosencrantz. 

Of my performance the only criticism I can remem- 
ber is that of William Winter, who wrote : "The gen- 
tleman who played Rosencrantz evidently had an en- 
gagement with a friend after the performance, so 
hurried was his speech and so evident his desire to get 
through with his part." In those days I was very much 
inclined to speak too rapidly. 

Of that long cast only Jeffrys Lewis and I are alive 

today. A few years ago, when The Scrap of Paper 

was staged at the Empire Theatre, Miss Lewis played 

54 



DALY'S FIFTH AVENUE THEATRE. 

MR. AUGUSTIN DALY, .... Sole Proprietor and Manage*! 

Begins at 8 precisely. Carriages may be ordered for 11 o'clock. 

SEVENTH SEASON THIRTEENTH WEEE 

_ 84th to 91st PERFORMANCE. 

Mr. Daly has pleasure in introducing 

fife i©wra n#o? a, 

For the First Time in this Theatre, and for the First time in New York since 2 years. 

^onfag gve n ing, @ct. 2&, 1S7&, 

Will be presented, after elaborate and costly preparation, Shakespeare's Tragic Play, in. 

6 Acts, entitled 

HAMLET! 

With 
MR. EDWIN BOOTH... as... HAMLET, PRINCE OP DENMARK 

And the following very strong distribution of the other characters : 

Mr. Charles Fisher as .... Polonius 

Mr. D. H. Harkins as Tne Ghost 

Mr. Hardenberg as TheKing 

Mr. W.Davidge • . aa..\.., The Gravedigger 

Mr. Maurice Barrymore «s Laertes 

Mr. GeorgePaikes as Osric 

Mr B. T. Rioggold as Horatio 

Mr. John Drew as Rosencranta 

Mr. JohuMoore a*. Ftrst Player 

Mr. Forrest as. . ., Guildenstern 

Mr Deveau - as Second Player 

Mr. Hamilton as Marcellus 

Mr. Beekman .-» ■«« as Bernardo* 

Mr. Evans as Francisco 

Mr. Hastings as Second Gravedigger 

Monks, Lords, Ladies, Pages, Etc. 

*3is9 Jeffreys Lewis as ^ ~ Ophelia 

Miss Alice Grey - • as The Queen 

Miss Grffiiths -.■• ■ as ■-. ••• ♦ First Actress 



IN HAMLET WITH BOOTH 



55 



56 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

the old woman's role. In that revival, my niece, Ethel 
Barrymore, was Suzanne, and I, Prosper. 

During this engagement in the fall of 1875, Booth 
played Richard II. I had great pride and satisfaction, 
because I was on the stage with him in the last scene. 
It fell to me as Sir Pierce of Exton to stab him in the 
back, and I can remember even now my great nervous- 
ness for fear that I might actually stick this great man 
instead of merely pretending to stab him. 

In one of the scenes Richard calls for a mirror and 

reads : 

A brittle glory shineth in this face: 
As brittle as the glory is the face. 

Then he throws the glass down and it is supposed to 
be dashed to pieces. On the first night, instead of 
falling flat on the stage, the mirror struck on the side 
and flew out into the audience. I was playing Lord 
Willoughby in this scene, doubling this character with 
Sir Pierce of Exton. No one could tell how the thing 
happened. 

Booth's performance was touching and beautiful as 
this intellectual, but despondent and superstitious king. 
With him it was always a favorite role. It had some- 
times been played by his father and Edmund Kean 
and Macready gave it occasionally but Richard II 
has on the whole been neglected in the theatre. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 57 

The action being largely political and possessing 
little of theatrical effectiveness the play did not prove 
popular when the Daly company appeared in it in 
support of Edwin Booth. Writing of this engagement 
in his biography of his brother, Augustin, Judge Daly 
records that while Hamlet drew average nightly re- 
ceipts of $1855; four performances of Richard II aver- 
aged only $73 1 . 

In Othello, with Booth, I played the part of Lodo- 
vico, Maurice Barrymore was Cassio, Jeffrys Lewis 
was Desdemona and as Booth played I ago, Harkins 
was Othello. 

At the rehearsals of Richelieu, in which I was to play 
Francois, I was extremely nervous. Francois is the 
character that Richelieu sends to get the paper con- 
taining the names of the plotters, Gaston, Orleans and 
the others. Francois is also the character to whom the 
famous lines are spoken: 

In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves 
For a bright manhood, there is no such word 
As "fail." 

When Franfois returns with the important paper 
which will confound all those who have plotted against 
the king, he kneels and says: "My lord, I have not 
f ailed." For some reason or other I said : "My liege." 

Booth said: "Don't say that: it isn't 'my liege.' " 



58 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

During rehearsals I made the same mistake several 
times. Edwin Booth was, as always, gentle and kind, 
and fortunately when the actual performance came I 
spoke the line correctly. 

I played Francis, in The Stranger, with Booth. 
Francis is what is known in the business as a "liny" 
part. By that we mean that the speeches are very 
short, broken lines. They have no semblance of con- 
tinuity and are constantly interrupted by the other 
characters. Almost every actor, particularly the young 
actor, has had difficulties with a part of the sort. When 
I played Francis with Booth I had a good memory, 
and I thought that I had mastered the broken speeches. 
During the performance I tripped a number of times, 
and when I apologized to Booth afterwards he was 
very gentle, very nice. He patted me on the shoulder. 
Evidently he had been through it himself, or perhaps 
he had seen many others go wrong in this thankless 
role. 

I thought that I had done with The Stranger for- 
ever, but some years after, in London, Maurice Barry- 
more and I went to Kings Cross Station to take a train 
for the country. We were ahead of time and near 
the station was a small theatre with alluring bills. We 
decided to kill half an hour with Walberg, the Avenger. 
The play was on when we entered, and it seemed 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 59 

strangely familiar. It turned out to be the old fash- 
ioned play, The Stranger. Barrymore remembered 
that in this piece one of the characters refers to The 
Stranger by his right name which was Walberg. The 
actor playing this character was unusually bad and 
suggested the actor in W. S. Gilbert's ballad "who 
mouthed and mugged in simulated rage." 

After the engagement with Booth I played with 
Adelaide Neilson in Twelfth Night and Cymbeline. 
In the latter play I was Cloten, which is supposed to 
be the comedy part : it wasn't — as I played it. After 
my head is supposed to be cut off Imogen discovers 
my body and thinking that it is her husband, Posthu- 
mous, throws herself upon me. It was rather uncom- 
fortable, as my head was covered with some dusty 
grass mats. My discomfiture was added to on the first 
night by the fact that I could tell that Miss Neilson 
was laughing. 

"What was the matter?" I asked her immediately 
afterwards. 

She merely continued to laugh. 

"Did my head show, or was something wrong with 
my costume?" 

"Oh, no, everything was all right," she told me; 
"but I once played that scene with a very portly Cloten, 
and when I threw myself upon him I rebounded and 



60 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

bounced. I have never been able to play that scene, 
serious though it is, without laughing under my 
breath." 

Things had been going very badly with Daly for 
some time, and he lost the Fifth Avenue Theatre. I 
played with my mother's old friend, Joseph Jefferson, 
in Rip Van Winkle for a while at Booth's Theatre, 
which was at Sixth Avenue and Twenty-third Street. 
At first I was the innkeeper, Seth, who chalks up drinks 
for Rip at the beginning of the play and later I was 
Henrick Vedder, the sailor, who comes in on the fourth 
act, when Rip has reappeared after his sleep. This 
part is played by a child in the first act. 

The next summer, with my old friend of Philadel- 
phia days, Lewis Baker, I went abroad. That was the 
year of the exposition at Paris, and all the boats were 
crowded. We were very much on the cheap and sailed 
on an inferior boat of a Scotch line. 

In London we saw Herman Vezin play a drama- 
tization of "The Vicar of Wakefield" called Olivia. 
Vezin was an American, born in Philadelphia, but 
he was always identified with the English stage and 
never played here. This same play, Olivia, by W. G. 
Wills, was later played by Henry Irving, who was then 
playing his wonderful melodramatic success, The 
Bells. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 61 

In Paris we saw Sarah Bernhardt play UEtrangere, 
at the Comedie Franchise with Coquelin, Mounet-Sully 
and the other fine actors of that great theatre. This 
play was later done in New York by Daly under the 
title of The American. 

On our return to England we saw the Columbia four- 
oar crew win the Stewards' Cup at Henley. The only 
friend we met on this trip was J. S. Clarke, who then 
had the lease of the Haymarket Theatre. He had 
been associated with my father in Philadelphia. He 
made quite a success as a comedian in London, but 
he was not acting when Baker and I met him. 

When we got home I went directly to Philadelphia, 
where I played Charles Surface for the first time, in 
the screen scene in The School for Scandal, at the 
Arch Street Theatre. The occasion was a benefit for a 
local charity. In order to play Charles, I shaved off 
my mustache, and this has been considered on the part 
of some actors a great sacrifice. It was especially so 
regarded in the seventies. Edwin Forrest, as his pic- 
tures will show, never would remove his side whiskers 
no matter what the period or the character. 



CHAPTER SEVEN 

I NEXT went on tour with my brother-in-law, Mau- 
rice Barrymore. He and Frederick Warde had 
purchased the road rights to the great Wallack's Thea- 
tre success, Diplomacy. I was engaged to play the 
juvenile part, Algie Fairfax. As the venture was not 
proving profitable, Warde and Barrymore, a short 
time after we had gone on tour, decided to split. 
Warde was to take part of the company and go West. 
Barrymore was to keep some of the actors, engage a 
few additional ones, and play the Southern territory. 
I stayed with Barrymore and from then on played 
the part of Henry Beauclerc, which had, up to this 
time, been played by Warde. Maurice Barrymore 
played Julian Beauclerc, the younger brother. H. 
Rees Davies, an actor of considerable experience, was 
Baron Stein and Ben Porter played Count Orloff. 
Porter was a good-looking man in the early forties, 
who had played in the Furbish Company which did 
for a time the old Daly play, Divorce. Countess Zicka 

was played by Ellen Cummings, an attractive young 

62 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

AN EARLY PICTURE OF MAURICE BARRYMORE 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 63 

woman who had been in the Louisville Stock Com- 
pany. In this same company Ada Rehan had played 
for a time after the days at the Arch Street Theatre and 
before her engagement by Augustin Daly. 

It was on this tour — at Marshall, Texas — that Ben 
Porter was killed and Barrymore severely wounded. 
We had played at the Opera House that night in 
March, the sixth anniversary of my appearance on the 
stage, and were waiting for a train to take us to Tex- 
arkana. 

We were stopping at the Station Hotel, and most 
of us went directly there after the play; but Barry- 
more, Porter and Miss Cummings decided to have 
something to eat, and they went to the only lunch room 
that was open, the one at the station. 

This lunch room was a sort of bar as well. One man 
was waiting on both parts of the room. A man named 
Jim Curry, an employee of the railroad and a deputy 
sheriff, began using offensive language and affronted 
Miss Cummings. 

Barrymore demanded that he stop. 

"I can do any of you up," said Curry. 

"I suppose you could," answered Barrymore, "with 
your pistol or knife." 

"I haven't got any pistol or knife. I'll do it with 



64 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

my bunch of fives," said Curry, as he proudly displayed 
a fist like a sledge hammer. 

"Then," said Barrymore, throwing off his coat, 
'Til have a go at you." 

But Curry did have a gun and he shot Barrymore, 
wounding him in the shoulder. When Porter rushed 
to Barrymore' s aid, Curry shot him. Porter died al- 
most immediately, on the station platform. 

I heard the shooting at the hotel, and I ran along 
the station platform and entered the only place that 
was lighted, the lunch room. As I entered, the man 
with the gun grabbed me. Why he did not shoot I 
do not know. In another minute or two the sheriff of 
Marshall arrived, took the gun away from his deputy 
and locked him up. 

We stayed on in Marshall for some days, till Barry- 
more was out of danger. When the physician showed 
him the ball that had been cut out of the muscle of his 
back, Barrymore said: 'Til give it to my son Lionel 
to cut his teeth on." 

Our hotel at the station was some distance from 
the town itself, and the next night when I was going to 
the druggist's to get a prescription filled for Barry- 
more, the train dispatcher called me aside and said: 
"You'd better take my pistol." 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 65 

I did so and walked along the dark road to the 
town with some little apprehension. The shooting at 
the lunch room had made us rather conspicuous in 
Marshall. 

There was only one house lighted along the road 
and when I was just opposite that a woman called to 
me: "Where are you going?" 

I told her: "To the druggist's, and then back to 
the hotel. ,, 

She said : "When you go back to the station will 
you tell my husband, he's train dispatcher" — the very 
man who had given me the gun — "that there are some 
tramps hanging around here. They've been in here 
to demand food." 

I went on to the druggist's, obtained the medicine 
and started back on the long, dark road, now without 
a single light. The pistol gave me confidence of a 
sort, but of course I didn't want to use it; I never had 
used one. 

With my hand on the gun, which was in my side 
pocket, I looked anxiously at the one or two persons 
I met on the way. When I returned the pistol to its 
owner I told him of his wife's fears, and he and another 
man went up to his house and apprehended two men 
who were put in jail. And though I had been anxious 



66 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

along the road, happily there were no other casualties 
during our visit to Marshall. 

The people of Texas, to show their detestation of 
the whole affair and their sympathy with the company, 
offered us the hospitality of a number of towns that 
no touring company would have thought of visiting. 
I do not suppose these towns would have been espe- 
cially attractive or profitable for a "one-man show" at 
that time. Mesquite was one of these, and Eagle Ford 
another. We were promised good houses; but of 
course we could not play Diplomacy with two of our 
leading characters missing. 

We played two or three farces, which we studied for 
the occasion. One of these was an old piece called 
The Little Treasure. In this the property man played 
a young English fop. He wore clothes of Barrymore's 
that didn't fit him, and a light-yellow wig that slipped 
badly and either showed his dark hair at the temple or 
at the neck in back. This was a sort of "town hall 
tonight" tour. When there was no theatre, we played 
in a hall and once in the dining room of a hotel. 

Curry was twice brought to trial, but acquitted. 
There were witnesses in court to testify that Curry had 
shot Porter and Barrymore in self-defense. As a mat- 
ter of fact, at the time of the shooting there was no 
one in the lunch room except the participants and the 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 67 

man who was waiting upon them. He was spirited 
away and never appeared in court. 

The night of the second acquittal Barrymore, who 
had twice gone to Texas at great expense and incon- 
venience, was sitting in front of the hotel — this time 
the hotel in town — airing his views upon Texas jus- 
tice. In no mincing words he was telling a citizen of 
the place what he thought. 

Just then a man walked past them into the hotel. 

"Do you know who that was?" asked Barrymore's 
companion. 

"No." 

"That was the lawyer who defended Curry." 

Barrymore leaned back and heard the lawyer ask 
the hotel clerk in a voice that sounded truculent to 
him: "Is Mr. Maurice Barrymore here?" 

"He's right outside," said the clerk. 

The lawyer came out and stood in the light from 
the door and asked : "Is Maurice Barrymore here?" 

Barrymore who noticed that the lawyer had his hand 
on his hip pocket declared himself present a little re- 
luctantly. He thought that there might be another 
shooting imminent. 

"Here," said the lawyer, taking his gun from his 
pocket and holding the butt out to Barrymore, "is the 
pistol that killed Porter and wounded you." 



68 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Barrymore took it, thanked the lawyer, examined 
the gun gingerly and handed it back. 

We heard later that Curry was killed in a brawl in 
New Mexico. 

By easy stages the company, which had gone through 
so much in Texas, worked its way to Texarkana, Pine 
Bluff, and by way of Little Rock to St. Louis. In Chi- 
cago the Western company, which was headed by 
Warde, joined us, and we managed to give, once more, 
some fairly respectable performances of Diplomacy. 
But the play was not a great success then, and when 
we closed there was so little money that I set out for 
Philadelphia in a smoking car. It meant two uncom- 
fortable days and nights. When we reached Altoona 
a telegraph boy called my name in the smoking car. 
He had a telegram for me. It was from Mother. She 
cautioned me to be sure to stop off at Philadelphia, for 
she had a part for me to play the next night. I had 
no intention of going any place other than Philadel- 
phia. I had no money. 

I arrived at two o'clock in the morning and went 
directly to our house where my mother gave me the 
part I was to play that night. This was Mr. Bronzley 
in an old comedy, Wives as They Were and Maids as 
They Are. I sat up all night and studied. At ten 
o'clock the next morning I attended rehearsal. At 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 69 

eight I appeared in eighteenth century finery as Mr. 
Bronzley and though I should not call my perform- 
ance either spirited or good, I did know the lines. 

I suppose it was youth, but in those days we all had 
a capacity for memorizing. That is, all of us except 
Barrymore. My sister, Georgie, could study a part 
in no time at all, and she couldn't understand why 
Barrymore could not commit things to memory easily. 
She used to hear him say his parts over and over 
again. While he had a marvelous memory for things 
he had read, poetry or prose, or anything he had studied 
while he was at Oxford, he couldn't commit his parts 
easily. 

This was the end of my first and only experience in 
a barnstorming company, for I was so fortunate as to 
come into the theatre in the days of resident companies 
and to play most of my career under two managements 
— that of Augustin Daly and that of Charles Frohman. 

When I had rested from this long trip in a smoking 
car and the difficulties and fatigues of this added stunt 
of playing a performance with less than twenty-four 
hours' notice, I went to New York to lay siege to the 
office of Augustin Daly, who was, I heard, about to 
open a new theatre. 



CHAPTER EIGHT 

WHILE I was in Texas, Daly had been abroad, 
where he bought the rights to the play made 
from Zola's famous book, "L'Assommoir." Under the 
title of Drink, in a version written by Charles Reade, 
this play was done by Charles Warner for five thou- 
sand nights in England. In New York, when pro- 
duced by Daly at the Olympic Theatre, it was a com- 
plete failure and ran only a short time. In the cast 
were Maude Granger, Emily Rigl, B. T. Ringold, 
Frank Sanger; my uncle, Frank Drew; and Ada Rehan. 
Gardner, the manager of the Arch Street Theatre, had 
recommended Ada Rehan to Daly, and in this play 
she played for the first time under his management. 
Olive Logan, who wrote the play Surf, which had a 
record run at the Arch Street Theatre and had also 
been produced by Daly, made the version American 
in all respects, but not sufficiently different to account 
for the failure here and the great success when played 
by Warner. 

This failure did not discourage Daly or his chief 

backer, John Duff, his father-in-law, and they set out 

70 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

ADA REHAN AND JOHN DREW IN "DOLLARS AND SENSE' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 71 

to find a new theatre early in 1879. On the West side 
of Broadway between Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth 
streets was an old building which had been Banvard's 
and later Wood's Museum. Downstairs was an exhi- 
bition hall which was chiefly famous as the place where 
the Cardiff giant was displayed. 

The auditorium was up a flight of steps and very 
small. Daly's architect contrived by a series of steps 
some feet apart to give the impression when the place 
was made over that the theatre was on the ground 
floor. As a matter of fact, the stage had been lowered 
somewhat and a new proscenium arch made. Because 
the building was old and so far out of the theatrical 
district the rental was low. There was great pessi- 
mism over the location of the theatre, so far uptown. 

When he had finished the physical changes in the 
theatre and had redecorated the whole, Daly gathered 
together a company. As in the opening of the Fifth 
Avenue Theatre, he selected mostly young players. 
After some correspondence and a visit or two I was 
engaged. I asked for forty dollars a week, but Daly 
would only give me thirty-five. 

In a letter I had written him I mentioned that since 
the Fifth Avenue Theatre days I had had quite a little 
experience and had improved in my enunciation. He 
wrote me that he was glad to hear that I had improved, 



72 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

but that I should not make him "pay for all the im- 
provements." A year later when I was married, he 
voluntarily raised my salary to fifty dollars. 

Ada Rehan had written Daly that she had a number 
of offers, but as they would take her out of town she 
would be willing to accept an engagement with him if 
he would pay her forty dollars a week. She did not 
feel that she could accept anything less than this sum, 
but she finally agreed to take thirty-five. 

Salaries were low everywhere in those days, and the 
only advantage the actor had was that he was engaged 
by the season and not for one part only. We were 
seldom idle, for if there was a musical piece running, 
those of us who did not appear in it went on tour. 

The stage entrance of Daly's was through the hall- 
way of a tenement house in Sixth Avenue and into a 
little courtyard out of which the actual stage door 
opened. Later, Daly bought a house in Twenty-ninth 
Street and the entrance was through this. Also many 
of the dressing rooms were moved over, and the whole 
arrangement was made more comfortable. 

In the early days we dressed in small rooms under 
the stage which had partitions only part of the way 
up. There was a green room, of course, for then every 
theatre had one. This was not a handsome room, like 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 73 

the one in the Fifth Avenue Theatre under Daly's 
management. There being no space at all in the new 
Daly theatre except under the stage, the green room 
was small and uncomfortable, as were the dressing 
rooms. 

One end of the room had a large mirror. The other 
walls were covered with framed quotations from Bul- 
wer-Lytton, Doctor Johnson and Shakespeare. There 
were one or two slogans — and this was before the days 
of printed slogans and office mottoes — promising hap- 
piness and careers to "those who minded their own 
business." 

In that very charming book, "The Diary of a Daly 
Debutante," written by a woman who for a short time 
played very minor parts with the Daly Company, there 
is this description of the green room : 

This place is not very attractive ; it is long and 
narrow, with a full-length mirror at one end of 
the room ; next to the mirror is a door leading into 
Mr. Daly's private office. There is a green velvet 
carpet on the floor, and around the walls runs a 
leather-covered bench. A few chairs stand here 
and there, and a fine Weber piano occupies one 
corner. Several good pictures and some curious 
old English play-bills hang on the walls. There 
is only one window, so the room is dark and 
gloomy by daylight, except just by the window, 



74 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

though at night it is light enough. A door opens 
into one end of the property-room — a place where 
all sorts of things are kept that are used on the 
stage — and through that we pass out to the stage. 

At the time of the opening Daly's theatre was, of 
course, lighted by gas. The flames were protected by 
wire netting and the jets were lighted by spark. Later, 
when electric lighting was first installed, there was no 
plant in the theatre, the supply coming from the city 
power house. 

Often the lights would go out, and the explanation 
was always that they were changing a belt. 

It was not very reassuring for the audiences to sit in 
darkness; nor was it comfortable for the players, who 
had come to a complete standstill on the stage and 
were waiting for the lights to come on. 

From the beginning Daly was insistent that no one 
should be allowed back stage on first nights. As a mat- 
ter of fact, it was impossible to get to the stage or 
dressing rooms at any time, so zealously was the door 
to the stage guarded by a large, unlettered, rough, but 
kindly Hibernian, named Owen Gormley. 

He seemed very surly; but of course he was only 
doing what Daly wanted him to do, and he did keep 
people out of the theatre. Owen could not read, and 
he regarded everyone who presented a letter or card 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JOHN DREW AND WILLIAM GILBERT IN "RED LETTER NIGHTS' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 75 

with a good deal of suspicion. It was hopeless to try 
to get mail from him. 

Owen had the distinction of having kept Mark 
Twain out of the theatre when he came by special ap- 
pointment to see Daly. After the one-hundredth per- 
formance of The Taming of the Shrew, Daly gave a 
supper at a large round table on the stage of the thea- 
tre. Twain was introduced by General Sherman, and 
we then heard, for the first time, how Owen had kept 
him from h ; s appointment. 

Twain began by saying: "This is the hardest thea- 
tre in New York to get into, even at the front door." 
He then went on and described in an excruciatingly 
funny way his encounter with Owen after he had found 
his way through the long hallway into the backyard 
which led to the stage. 

The first night of Daly's theatre was really not an 
auspicious occasion. Daly had failed so completely 
with the Fifth Avenue Theatre, and his attempt to 
come back with UAssommoir had been so unfortunate 
that perhaps at no time in his career of management 
did his name mean so little to the public as when he 
opened his own theatre on September 18, 1879. 

Nor was the opening bill a success. There was a 
one-act play called Love's Young Dream, in which Ada 
Rehan, May Fielding, Charles Fisher and George 



76 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Parkes appeared. This was followed by Newport, 
subtitled The Swimmer, The Singer and The Cipher. 
According to the program I was Tom Sanderson, a 
master bather with an overmastering secret. The cast 
was: 

Hon. Peter Porter Charles Leclercq 

Hon. U. B. Blode William Davidge 

Ben Boulgate Hart Conway 

Capt. Chickering George Parkes 

Tom Sanderson John Drew 

Captain Blackwell Frank Iredale 

Crutch Reynolds Walter Edmunds 

Undo Frank V. Bennett 

Toggs Maggie Barnes 

Midget Laura Thorpe 

Thompson Earle Stirling 

Ginger E. Wilkes 

Officer P. Hunting 
Hon. Mrs. Peter Porter Catherine Lewis 

The Widow Warboys Mrs. Charles Poole 

Miss Belle Blode Georgine Flagg 

Cosette Annie Wakeman 

In this comedy with songs Olive Logan had at- 
tempted to repeat the success which she had attained 
with her earlier play about a fashionable summer re- 
sort, Surf. She failed to get from Newport what she 
had found in the background of Cape May and the 
public stayed away from the new theatre. 

Divorce, a success of a few years before, was revived 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 77 

as soon as possible and rehearsals begun on a new 
play by Bronson.Howard called Wives. This was an 
adaptation from Moliere's two plays, UEcole des 
Femmes and UEcole des Maris and so far as I can 
ascertain this is the first time that Moliere, so often 
adapted and borrowed from, was given credit on an 
American playbill. 

The cast for this five-act comedy produced October 
18, 1879, was: 



Arnolphe, Marquis of 
Fontenoy 

SCANARELLE LaMARRE 
VlCOMTE ARISTE 

Chrisalde 

Horace de Chateauroux 

Captain Fieremonte 

Dorival 

Alain 

Jean Jacques 

Captain Ballander 

The Commissary 

The Notary 

Agnes 

ISABELLE DE NeSLE 

Lenora de Nesle 

LlSETTE 

Georgette 



Charles Fisher 
William Davidge 
George Morton 
John Drew 
Harry Lacy 
George Parkes 
Hart Conway 
Charles Leclercq 
F. Bennett 
W. Edmunds 
Mr. Hunting 
Mr. Sterling 
Catherine Lewis 
Ada Rehan 
Margaret Lanner 
Maggie Harold 
Sydney Nelson 



During this first season neither James Lewis nor 
Mrs. Gilbert was in the company, and it was not till 



78 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

the following September that we were all cast together 
in a play called Our First Families, by Edgar Fawcett. 

The playbills at Daly's theatre always had a synop- 
sis with the character. Thus, in An Arabian Night, I 
was Mr. Alexander S pinkie, "a retired broker and 
ex-Caliph ; a devoted young husband with a fatal pas- 
sion for the Arabian Nights." And Ada Rehan was 
Miss Kate Spinkle, "an American girl brought up 
abroad, and astonished at the ways at home." In The 
Way We Live I was Clyde Monograme "who lives the 
best way he can since his wife lives for everybody else." 
And Ada Rehan was Cherry Monograme, "who lives 
in her carriage and makes short calls at home." 

Both of these were plays which Daly had adapted 
from the German. In the first I had the sort of light 
comedy part that I played so often in the Daly Theatre 
and in the second Ada Rehan and I played opposite 
each other as we were to do for so many years after- 
ward. 

At the end of the season we opened a spring tour in 
Boston with An Arabian Night. This rather light 
comedy did not fill the vast spaces of the Boston 
Theatre. On the first night a pony that was brought 
on in one of the scenes stepped on my foot and cracked 
my patent-leather shoe. Otherwise this visit to Boston 
was quite uneventful, except that it gave me an oppor- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 79 

tunity to call upon that fine actor, William Warren. 
He was an old friend of my mother's and had been as- 
sociated at one time or another with other members of 
the family. 

I never had the good fortune to act with him. At 
the time I visited him he was the idol of the Boston 
Museum, where he played for many years. 

I called upon him at Miss Amelia Fisher's boarding 
house in Bullfinch Place, where he was a perpetual 
guest and liked by everyone. To call Miss Fisher's 
house a theatrical boarding house is not a fair descrip- 
tion, for it was really a delightful place and nothing at 
all like the boarding house which Helen Green has 
celebrated under the name of "Maison de Shine." 

I talked to William Warren of our play. He 
sympathized with our company for having to play so 
frothy a piece in so huge a theatre. "It is like," he 
said, "trying to tell a funny story across the Common." 

A great many members of the profession did not 
care to stay at Miss Fisher's because she never gave her 
guests a latch key, but would sit up and wait for them 
to come home. She always let her guests in herself. 
I can remember when Charlie Stevenson went to Bos- 
ton. He thought that it would be fine to stay there 
where so many of the profession had been. It had 
always seemed so pleasant when he had visited friends 



8o MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

who were living in Miss Fisher's house. But he felt the 
restraint when he lived there himself. He did not 
want to keep the old lady sitting up for him after the 
theatre, and he did not want to come home on cue. 



CHAPTER NINE 

THE second season of Daly's opened with Tiote, 
a romantic melodrama with the scene laid in 
Wales. It was a prompt failure. Then came Our 
First Families, which brought together the four play- 
ers who were to be associated through the eighties and 
early nineties. 

Mrs. Gilbert was an old dear. Even in the days of 
the Fifth Avenue Company we called her "Grandma." 
Ada Rehan was handsome and attractive. She was 
big, whole-hearted, good-natured and one of the most 
lovable of women. She had fine, expressive eyes, 
which counted much in the theatre. 

Jim Lewis was the most companionable of men, and 

I never had a better friend. There is no use discussing 

his great talent and his great ability. That does not 

mean much now, but there is a story concerning him 

which means much to me. The summer before I 

played Rosemary we were all living together at West 

Hampton, Long Island — the Lewises, Henry Miller 

and his family, my mother, the Barrymore children and 

my wife, daughter and myself. Lewis saw a Sunday 

81 




TEI OKI. TBUTU IKSM IEJ MLI KlUAOUaMT « 
Mr. AUGUSTIN DALY. 



SECOND YEAR OF THE NEW THEATRE. 

Twelfth Week. TClcrlityslxth Pcrformanco. 



The Molo on the Act Drop : " fa/mam qui mtruil feral : 



! him bear the palm who bat won i 



THIS TUESDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 9, 1880, 



Pour Act., by MR. AUCUST1X 



NEEDLES and PINS! 



•i>d H J. EAVES luc 

TUB CAST WILL ISILVDE 

elderly pan, Id March . f the unique •>< cu. 



MR. NICHOLAS GEACLE 

•irott a bit of Nature'! en hk-i-kk, ana 

MR CHRISTOPHER VANDUSEN.'fa Retired M 



, OldN 



«rly In •• Corkj," aa 



KIT VANDUSEN (The duthd t. 
TOM VERSUS (A s 



-r: 



idle for hi. hHUUT all . 

SERGEANT MALDONALD, of ike polh Prectrct. teoipwar.ly iieigncd lor duty »t 



""ui. JAMES LEWIS 

"mrI'ch'arles FISHER 
. . "m'r JOHN BRAND 
MR. JOHN DREW 



l the Triton Ma»que 



. . MR. ROBERTS 
MR. E. P. WILKS 
. MR. BEEKMAN 
, MR. LAURENCE 



-ALSO- 
MRS. VANDUSEN (the heme partner of the retired Cork 

.phert-at.d in l..c, an emirr p per ol Ne.Jle. and Pin, In her 0». pe.lr.) . . . . M!>S FANNV MORANT 
M:SS DOSIE HEFFRON,(a gtddv young thing f (j a te mUite*). who Drove* to be m 

unexpected hern bre-iicr and en un-.u'pecicd syren il 
S1LENA VANDUSEN (her niece, a thorn in her aum'i tide, (hough e roeebud in everybody 



MISS MARV FOREST 

.„ne . with highly 

CAROLINES nnld.er. 

HANNAH, another. . . 






lar-y ree enily come into a 



MISS ADA IEHAN 



. .MISS LEVERE 
CHARACTERS IN THE MASQUE AND NURSERY COTILLON. 
. Mix Evee.on. Champafneclra.ly . . MiiiMaiwell Totnaiydodd . . . 
Miei Ki.klan.". The Four Dominoe. in Black, by The Royal Middy. 

l= M .. v.-.„,han. Mire Witiam.. Aladdin ....... MUa I rev.lyeo 

Jill Donation. _ Mis* Howard. Mist Feruheraroe*. Little Bopeep Mot Hinckley 



. . . Mill Vietoa 
. Mix Wea.er 

. Mute Trer.ly 



Red R.JingHocd. 


: ..Mis fev, 


. . . .Mis Shandley. Moth 
Mr. Ste.li,,. Pun 


r Goo>e7 
n Boot! . 


. . . Mill Brook. 
. Mr. Macdonougk 
.... Mr. Hewitt 








(Under wbo.edir 


clion the dances are given.) 







Wedlock do not deter two or three more couplet 
calm -and the fate of the Whi.p-rer 11 letded. 

Tki Sicoko Act— Scene i Tre Law Office ol Mr. Tom Venn 



ae-sa 



Thi Third Act— St 



The HippodroRe Summer Garden dec. rued lor tr.« " Trite*" Masquerade. (By 
more bosons ihinCK; and a Domino Kiddle wbui 



Mr lat.' 

pttriK.. ibe pljye*. place* one of ihem at ihe mercy of the po ice. The difAiiroui result* ft aa cachaate c 
of a ■ ip of spiced J .malea. One o' ihe Siletul' i. unm-sVcd and aaothtr tf ihem uaautkt ben.lf, while 
Fra>: htmtcrU bereft of hi* prife: Look — " 

(Incident... to Ihuaci wll. b* ft duet by 



i relding and Mr. Brand and ft 
oy an me •unn»cic».j 

Tmb FouaTH Act— Return* to ihe VaooWi. Man. loo and develops 
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From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



A TYPICAL DALY COMEDY FROM THE GERMAN WITH 
four" IN THE CAST 

82 



THE BIO 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 83 

paper in which a certain writer of theatrical affairs 
drew a rather personal comparison between my acting 
and that of Charles Wyndham, who had played Rose- 
mary in London. It was the conviction of the writer 
of this article that the part of Sir Jasper was too serious 
for me and somewhat beyond my depth; in fact, that 
I should fail in Rosemary. Lewis took the trouble to 
cut this out of all the copies of the paper in the house 
so that I would not see the disparaging remarks while 
I was studying the part I was to play the last of 
August at the Empire Theatre, and so that my family 
would not see them. It was most thoughtful and so 
characteristic of Lewis! As a matter of fact, Rose- 
mary was a big success. 

The second season at Daly's had not started out too 
bravely, but when Needles and Pins was produced the 
success of this theatre, so far above the theatrical dis- 
trict, seemed to be assured. Needles and Pins was an 
adaptation of Rosen's Starke Mitteln. It had a run 
of a hundred nights. Miss Rehan and I played oppo- 
site each other. She was a young girl in her 'teens, 
and I a young lawyer captivated by her youthful 
charm. Mrs. Gilbert played one of those elderly 
spinsters trying to grow young, and James Lewis was 
an elderly bachelor in love with her. 



84 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

From this second season of the new Daly's Ada 
Rehan was an assured success. E. A. Dithmar at a 
somewhat later date wrote: "Miss Ada Rehan has 
no lack of appreciation and she is growing in her art. 
Her record belongs to the future ; but it has been inter- 
esting and profitable to watch her artistic work from 
the days of Needles and Pins, in which Miss Rehan 
as a kittenish girl acted as a mediator in the mature 
romance of a bald and bashful bachelor and a gushing 
yet timid spinster, portrayed by Mr. Lewis and Mrs. 
Gilbert." 

The plot of Needles and Pins was complicated and 
sentimental, and it was not a play that could live any 
number of years in any theatre, but the comedy scenes 
were genuine good fun. I suppose that its most con- 
spicuous merit was that it was unlike anything to be 
seen elsewhere in New York at that time. It belonged 
to the group of plays that Daly adapted from the 
German. Some were better than others, but the stand- 
ard did not change much. They were always very 
pleasing, light and clean. 

The company and the performances were beginning 
to attract attention and it was somewhere around this 
time that Mark Twain and other people prominent in 
literature and art began to come to the theatre. I 
remember that Mark Twain told me in those early 




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MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 85 

days that he had thought of writing a play for the 
Daly Company. It was a grand, brilliant and original 
idea. At least so he thought when he began to work 
upon it. The play was a dream play, and in the end 
it all came out right and the disasters that happened in 
the play were mere distortions of the imagination. 
Before submitting the play to Daly he thought that he 
would take it to some friend who knew something 
about dramatic construction; so he submitted the 
manuscript to Sinclair McKelway of the Brooklyn 
Eagle. 

All this Twain told me with that characteristic 
drawl which, had anyone perfected and imitated it on 
the stage, would have been labeled at once as down- 
right impossible. 

When Twain got his play back from his friend there 
was no comment, just a list of the hundreds of differ- 
ent plays from 400 B. C. to the time he was writing 
which had had this same original idea of violent hap- 
penings that turn out to be merely dreams. 

With Needles and Pins, then, we had settled down 
to the success and prosperity which lasted all through 
the eighties. It was less than eight years before that 
Ada Rehan and I had played together for the first time 
on the stage of the Arch Street Theatre. With all the 
praise and attention that were showered upon her Ada 



86 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Rehan's point of view never changed. She was always 
the same unaffected, natural person of the early days. 

I felt that I had made quite an impression, and I am 
afraid that I conveyed this idea to Joseph Jefferson in 
a talk that I had with him. He was an old friend of 
my mother's and I think that he, with the best of good 
nature, took upon himself the task of correcting any 
false idea I might have about my position in the 
theatre. 

To point a moral and to convince me that, however 
big I might think myself, there was certain to be some 
one a little bigger, he told me that when he had made 
his great success with Rip Van Winkle — the play that 
was to immortalize him and that he was to do every- 
where for years to come — he thought himself fairly 
important and that everyone knew of his success. At 
the very least he felt that he had put Washington 
Irving on the map with this Boucicault version of Rip. 

One night, after the theatre, as he was going to his 
room in the Fifth Avenue Hotel, a stockily built man 
with a grizzly beard got into the elevator. 

"Are you playing in town now, Mr. Jefferson ?" he 
asked. 

Jefferson, as he replied in the affirmative, rather 
pitied the man for his ignorance and his total lack of 
understanding of what was going on in the world. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 87 

What a simpleton he must be who did not know that 
Rip was having a record run! 

When this man reached his floor and got out Jeffer- 
son asked the elevator boy: "Who was that?" 

"Why," said the boy, in his turn pitying Jefferson 
for his ignorance, "that's General Grant!" 



CHAPTER TEN 

GET onto Jacob Earwig," said James Lewis, who 
was standing back of me. He looked over my 
shoulder toward the prompt-entrance. 

He was playing Grumw, one of my servants in The 
Taming of the Shrew, but in all the excitement and 
tenseness of that night, January 18th, 1877 — tne m °st 
important first night in the history of Daly's Theatre — 
he was sufficiently calm to call attention to a man in 
evening dress sitting in the first entrance and holding 
out a magnificent, beaten-silver ear trumpet. 

Later, when I got a chance to look that way I saw 
that it was Horace Howard Furness, the Shakespearian 
scholar. He was very deaf. Certainly, for no less a 
person than Furness would Daly have departed from 
his rigidly enforced custom of allowing no one behind 
the scenes. I did not dare look at Lewis during the 
rest of the performance for fear that I, in my first- 
night nervousness, might laugh and blow up. 

As with most actors, Lewis remembered the parts he 
himself had played, and in an old farce called Boots 

88 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 89 

at the Swan there was a deaf old man, the low-comedy 
character, and his name was Jacob Earwig. 

The production of The Taming of the Shrew was 
much heralded in advance. All during rehearsals we 
were led to believe that this was to be a great and 
history-making production. The strange fact is that it 
was. Nothing that Daly had hoped for the production 
before the first night turned out to be too extravagant. 
It was at once taken up and acclaimed by the press. 
For years afterwards this performance of The Taming 
of the Shrew was talked of as an historical event, and 
certainly it was the highest point of achievement in 
Daly's career of many successes. It was perhaps a sur- 
prise to the public, but no more so than it was to us, 
that a company which had made its success in light 
comedies from the German should reach its highest 
point in a Shakespearian comedy. We had not been 
very happy or successful in The Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

By 1887 the four principal actors of the Daly 
Theatre were so firmly intrenched in the public's favor 
and so much identified with the succession of plays that 
Daly would not run the risk of leaving one of this 
group out of the cast. Accordingly, into the trivial and 
unimportant role of Curtis, a retainer of Petruchio, he 
put the ever popular Mrs. Gilbert. Curtis is really a 



go MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

man's role, but there was precedent for Daly's putting 
Mrs. Gilbert into the part, as a Mrs. LeBrun had 
played Curtis when Clara Morris played Katherine 
and Louis James Petruchio at the Academy of Music 
some years before. In the whole line of light comedies 
Mrs. Gilbert and Lewis had played opposite each 
other, and Curtis enabled her to play a low-comedy 
scene with Grumio, which was played by Lewis on this 
occasion. 

At the end of the performance Horace Howard 
Furness, being already on the stage, was the first to 
reach us. He congratulated Ada Rehan, the Kath- 
erine, and me, the Petruchio. I do not see how he 
could have heard any of the play even from his vantage 
point in the first entrance, for he was so deaf that it 
was necessary to shout into his ear trumpet. 

Katherine was that night, and always remained, the 
greatest part in Ada Rehan's long list of performances. 
Petruchio was to me the most grateful role that I have 
played. It has everything that the player of high 
comedy can desire : telling speeches and effective situa- 
tions ; in fact, everything that makes for and makes up 
a great part. Since Petruchio is a great Shakespearian 
character, it may be imagined how gratifying it was 
to be told by everyone whose opinion and judgment I 




Photo, by Sarony. 



ADA REHAN AS KATHERINE 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 91 

regarded that I had come out of the effort successfully. 

The Taming of the Shrew was really a novelty in 
1887. A short version of the play known as Katherine 
and Petruchio had been played by a number of trage- 
dians when they wanted a rest. This garbled version, 
which consisted mainly of the horse-play scenes in 
which Petruchio brandishes his whip and the leg of 
mutton about the stage, had been played by Edwin 
Booth. It was this version that Clara Morris and 
Louis James had played; in fact, for stage use the play 
had come to be known as Katherine and Petruchio. 
The Daly production went back to the play as written 
and The Induction was restored. Presumably, the 
characters in The Induction were then played for the 
first time in America. 

Christopher Sly, a drunken tinker, is observed by a 
lord and his servants as they are coming from a hunt. 
Sly has been thrown out of an alehouse. It occurs to 
the lord to dress this fellow up and when he comes 
round to serve him with all ceremonies and make him 
believe that he is a great lord. The real lord has his 
page, a part very well played by the youthful Willie 
Collier, dress up as a woman and pretend to be the wife 
of Sly. When everything is ready the real lord, 
dressed as a servant, comes to him and says : 



92 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Your honor's players, hearing your amendment, 
Are come to play a pleasant comedy : 
For so your doctors hold it very meet, 
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal' d your blood, 
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy; 
Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play 
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, 
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life. 

Sly answers : "Marry, I will ; let them play it." 
By this time they have made Sly believe that he is 
really a lord. He and the page, dressed as his lady, 
sit at the side of the stage down left, and then the play 
begins. They are removed after the first act and they 
do not appear again, but the whole action of the play 
is supposed to be before this tinker and his lady. 

After the one-hundredth performance of The Tarn- 
ing of The Shrew there was a supper on the stage of 
the theatre. Of this the New York Herald recorded : 

Mr. Augustin Daly's supper, given to his com- 
pany and a few invited guests on the stage of his 
theatre yesterday morning, was a remarkable 
event in several ways. It commemorated the one- 
hundredth night of a Shakespearian revival of 
more than usual splendor and it brought together 
many remarkable men. 

The company sat down at one-half past twelve 
and rose at five in the morning. A great circular 
table occupied the entire stage. Its center was a 
mass of tulips and roses. Around its outer edge 
sat forty participants. Think of a supper at 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 93 

which General Sherman acted as toastmaster, at 
which Horace Porter made an unusually clever 
speech, Mark Twain told a story, Bronson How- 
ard and Wilson Barrett spoke, at which Miss Ada 
Rehan made a neat and charming response when 
her name was called, at which the ever young 
Lester Wallack commended in the heartiest 
way the brother manager whose guest he was, at 
which Willie Winter read a poem of home manu- 
facture. Imagine all this and add to it countless 
witty stories that were told around the board, 
think of the wine glasses that clicked, think of the 
champagne that bubbled, think of the pretty 
women, think of the weird surroundings (the 
dark cave-like auditorium and the brilliantly 
lighted stage). 

The Taming of the Shrew was the most successful 
but not the first of the Shakespearian plays to be pro- 
duced during my days at Daly's. On October 14, 
1886, we had performed The Merry Wives of Wind- 
sor with this cast : 

Sir John Falstaff Charles Fisher 

Master Slender James Lewis 

Sir Hugh Evans Charles Leclercq 

Doctor Caius William Gilbert 
Host of the Garter Inn Frederick Bond 

Mistress Page Virginia Dreher 

Mistress Quickly Mrs. G. H. Gilbert 

Fenton E. Hamilton-Bell 

Master Shallow John Moore 

Francis Ford John Drew 

George Page Otis Skinner 



94 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Ancient Pistol Geo. Parkes 

Corporal Nym John Wood 

Bardolph H. Roberts 

Robin Bijou Fernandez 

Simple William Collier 

Rugby E. P. Wilkes 

Mistress Ford Ada Rehan 

Anne Page Edith Kingdon 



This revival was not especially successful, and it 
had a run of only thirty-five performances. Nor did 
the members of the company shine in this, except per- 
haps Otis Skinner, who had recently joined the com- 
pany. He had been playing Shakespeare with Law- 
rence Barrett and his Page was a sound performance. 

Our third Shakespearian performance was A Mid- 
summer Nighfs Dream which was produced early in 
1888. Lewis was Bottom, Otis Skinner was Lysander. 
I was Demetrius. Joseph Holland was Theseus, Bijou 
Fernandez was Puck, Ada Rehan was Helena, Virginia 
Dreher was Hermia and Effie Shannon was Titania. 

Appropriately enough, we were playing A Midsum- 
mer Night's Dream on that Monday night in March, 
1888, when the great blizzard occurred. There were 
more people on the stage than there were in the audi- 
ence. The house was sold out for some performances 
to come and Daly would not postpone the performance. 
I walked to the theatre under the Sixth Avenue Ele- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 9 s 

vated tracks and arrived with little inconvenience. 
Ada Rehan had gone to South Brooklyn to visit her 
mother and had great trouble in getting to the theatre. 
The carriage that Daly sent for her earlier in the day 
managed to get back with her, but it was a long, diffi- 
cult drive. As I remember, only Leclercq and one 
other member of the cast failed to appear. They had 
gone out of town for Sunday. 

The production of A Midsummer Night's Dream 
was elaborate, but not so elaborate as the Shakespearian 
productions of Henry Irving. Moreover, it showed 
one of the limitations of the Daly Theatre, and that, 
that a desire for novelty sometimes led the manager 
astray. Henry Irving and many others called attention 
to the extraordinary and fussy confusion of the stag- 
ing. At the end of one of the acts there Was a great 
panorama which moved across the back of the stage 
to suggest the moving of the barge of Theseus. At the 
very end profile figures on wings or side pieces were 
pushed onto the stage; painted people were waving 
things and these canvas people did not jibe with the 
real people on the stage. Irving thought it worse than 
stupid. 

In the revival of As You Like It Ada Rehan was 
Rosalind, Henrietta Crosman, Celia, Isabel Irving, 
Audrey, James Lewis was Touchstone, George Clark, 



96 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Jaques, Hobart Bosworth, Charles, and I was Orlando. 
This was the first appearance of Henrietta Crosman at 
Daly's Theatre. I had played in a scene from As You 
Like It once before and that was at a benefit for Fanny 
Davenport at the Fifth Avenue Theatre. On that oc- 
casion I played Jaques de Bois, the second son of old 
Sir Rowland de Bois. This is a small part and the 
character only comes on at the end of the play. In that 
performance Lawrence Barrett was the Jaques. After- 
wards he came over and talked to me. I had never 
met him. He had known my father, and he knew my 
mother. 

The following spring we played As You Like It on 
the lawn of the Farwell estate at Lake Forest, near 
Chicago. It had been raining for many days and the 
ground was so damp that it was necessary for the 
women to wear rubbers. It was of course a daylight 
performance, and we did not know how to make up; 
that is, adapt our regular make-up for daylight. We 
appealed to William Gilbert, who had once been with 
a circus, but as he had been a clown his ideas of make- 
up were not very helpful to those of us who were sup- 
posed to be living in the Forest of Arden. 

George Clarke suggested that we use some stuff 
called bolarmenia. This is a brownish make-up that is 
used for Indian characters, and he thought that a little 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
ADA REHAN AS ROSALIND, JOHN DREW AS ORLANDO, IN "AS YOU LIKE IT* 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 97 

of this on our cheeks would give us the healthy appear- 
ance of people who live in the open air. He imparted 
this information with so much assurance that we 
thought he must know what he was talking about. I 
went on with this stuff on my face. My appearance 
in the mirror was not too reassuring, but I fancied that 
the distance of the spectators from the stage in this 
beautiful amphitheatre would take care of things and 
offset to some degree, at least, the strange-looking 
image that I saw in my mirror. 

In the scene where they try to dissuade Orlando 
from wrestling with the great fellow Charles, Celia has 
a speech: 

Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for 
your years. You have seen cruel proof of this 
man's strength; if you saw yourself with your 
eyes or knew yourself with your judgment, the 
fear of your adventure would counsel you to a 
more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your 
own sake, to embrace your own safety and give 
over this attempt. 

During this speech Ada Rehan looked at me for the 

first time, and apparently she had never seen anything 

so funny; and she laughed so much that she was 

scarcely able to give the speech of Rosalind: 

Do, young sir; your reputation shall not there- 
fore be misprised ; we will make it our suit to the 
duke that the wrestling might not go forward. 



98 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

"You looked like an effeminate Indian," she told me 
afterwards. 

My long-haired wig added to this impression. We 
found out later that George Clarke had just tried out 
an experiment on us and that he had not played under 
similar conditions before. 

In the wrestling scene upon this occasion Hobart 
Bosworth, who was the Charles — the giant that Or- 
lando throws — did not take the ordinary precautions 
that we took in this scene upon the stage. He thought 
that the soft, damp ground would protect him. When 
he was thrown he landed on the point of his shoulder, 
and it was so painful that he uttered a ringing oath. 
Fortunately, the distances were so great that he was 
heard only by the actors. Altogether our open-air 
performance was not a happy one. 

There was an all-star performance of the same play 
— As You Like It — for some charity given on the 
property of Agnes Booth at Manchester on the Massa- 
chusetts coast one summer. Crane, Robson, Frank 
Mayo, Rose Coghlan and many other famous people 
were in the cast. Mayo, who was a great popular 
favorite, was the Jaques. He had some very long 
waits and as it was a very warm day, he had walked 
over to the hotel for a cooling glass. In the midst of 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 99 

a conversation with a friend, he was interrupted by a 
call boy. Jaques was wanted. It was his great en- 
trance into the Forest of Arden. It was time for the 
speech, "The Seven Ages of Man." Thinking to save 
time, he took a short cut, which led over some fences. 
As he got near where the stage was he began reciting 
his speech to give the impression that he really wasn't 
late but was on the job all the time. This is an old 
dodge, often resorted to in the theatre, but Mayo had 
not calculated his distances very closely and when he 
arrived on the scene, panting and breathless, his speech, 
'The Seven Ages of Man," was all gone. 

Love's Labour s Lost was the last of the Shake- 
spearian revivals that I played in at Daly's. After I 
had left, Ada Rehan played both Viola and Portia, 
but Katherine was always her great character. 

Love's Labour s Lost had been produced by Daly at 
The Fifth Avenue Theatre in 1874 an d at that time, 
which must have been one of the first productions of 
this play in New York, Ada Dyas, Fanny Davenport, 
Davidge, Harkins, Fisher, Louis James and Hart 
Gonway .appeared. 

Though his first production of this little acted play 
was not a success Daly decided to revive it in March, 
1891, with this cast: 



lOO 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



The King of Navarre 

longaville 

Don Adrianode Arm ado 

Sir Nathaniel 

holofernes 

The Princess of France 

Jacquenetta 

Biron 

BOYET 

Mercade 
Dull 

Costard 

Rosaline 

Maria 

Moth 

Katherine 



John Drew 
Hobart Bosworth 
Sidney Herbert 
Charles Leclercq 
Harry Edwards 
Ada Rehan 
Kitty Cheatham 
Geo. Clarke 
Charles Wheatleigh 
Wilfred Buckland 
William Sampson 
James Lewis 
Edith Crane 
Adelaide Prince 
Flossie Ethel 
Isabel Irving 



Willie Collier, who made his first appearance on the 
stage in Shakespeare, as the page in The Induction of 
The Taming of the Shrew, came into the theatre as 
a call boy. Even as a boy he had an extraordinary 
manner of saying perfectly absurd and ridiculous 
things with the utmost seriousness. Lewis, a comedian 
himself, took the greatest delight in Collier and en- 
couraged him greatly. Collier was an excellent mimic, 
and his imitation of Daly was uncanny. 

One day Collier was talking to Lewis and myself in 
a dressing room and imitating Daly. John Moore, the 
stage manager, was looking for Daly to consult him 
about something upon which an immediate decision 




Photo, by Barony. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 101 

was required. He heard Daly talking in our dressing 
room. He stood aghast outside the door, for the things 
that the supposed Daly was saying were unlike any- 
thing that Daly could possibly have said. The matter 
was urgent, and he had to interrupt. When he knocked 
and entered and found that Daly really wasn't there 
he was so dazed that he left the room without a word. 

We never heard further from the incident, but we 
impressed upon Collier that he must keep his imitations 
of Daly for our ears alone. Lewis enjoyed them so 
much that he was loath to give them up altogether. 

We were all very sorry when Willie Collier left the 
company. I was especially so, because it broke up our 
baseball club. He was a capital pitcher and an ex- 
tremely good organizer. We had no catcher and 
usually recruited someone from the property room of 
the theatre we were playing to fill that position. Some- 
times a scene shifter received Collier's delivery. Steve 
Murphy, who later, as Steve Grattan, played a number 
of parts at the old Lyceum, was really a good first base- 
man. Otis Skinner played second and I played short. 
Joe Holland was at third. In right field was Wood, 
a son of Mrs. John Wood, that splendid comedienne 
and a great favorite of the London stage. Frederick 
Bond was in left field and Thomas Patten, ex-Post- 
master of New York, played center. We had great 



102 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

fun, and it kept us all in splendid physical shape. 
When we had no games to play we practiced every 
morning. We played on tour with local teams. In 
Chicago, on one trip, we had two fine games — one with 
the team of the Union Club and the other with a team 
representing the Board of Trade. 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 

OF the light comedies produced at Daly's perhaps 
the most successful was A Night Off. It was 
typical of the long line of plays. Daly made this from 
the German of Franz and Paul Von Schonthan. The 
original of the play was called Der Raub der Sabin- 
erinnen. We did this play later in London and in 
Germany. In New York it was produced early in 
March and ran through the rest of the season. It was 
revived many times and always seemed uproariously 
funny. As a play it was the cleverest and the most 
interesting adaptation that Daly made from the 
German. 

In this play a fly-by-night manager produces a play 
written by an old professor. James Lewis was Profes- 
sor Babbitt, and Leclercq was the theatrical manager. 
The whole action centers around this play. Miss 
Rehan had the ingenue part of Nisbe; Mrs. Gilbert 
played the wife of the professor. I played Jack Mul- 
berry, a younger son of an important English family. 
As he could not act he had drifted into this bad 

theatrical company. Otis Skinner was Damask and 

103 



104 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

May Irwin was Susan, a soubrette. Daly had seen 
May Irwin at Tony Pastor's. As ever in his career, he 
liked to find his own people. What went on in other 
theatres he considered trivial and always of secondary 
importance to Daly's. He found May Irwin and she 
joined the company to play this part of Susan. She 
was an extraordinary hit and very funny in a type of 
soubrette role which has almost disappeared from the 
stage. 

On the last night of A Night Off a rhymed tag or 
epilogue, written by Edgar Fawcett, the author of Our 
First Families, which had first served to bring together 
the four players who were most closely associated with 
Daly's during the eighties, was read by the actors, each 
one having a couplet. This ended with some sort of 
an introduction of Augustin Daly. The manager 
would then come on and make a speech of acknowl- 
edgment for the season which had just passed. This 
always happened at the end of the season, and Daly 
never appeared on the first night of a new production 
or the first night of a season. 

Sometimes Fawcett varied this epilogue and one or 
two of the players would have something a little longer 
than a distich to recite. On one occasion, to make a 
rhyme or a quantity correct Fawcett referred to Daly 
as "the colonel." Daly objected to the rank thus con- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 105: 

ferred upon him, and Fawcett changed the lines so that 
he should be called "the governor." From that time 
on we — that is, those of us who were close to the man- 
ager — always called Daly, "governor." 

It would be difficult to imagine a company in which 
there was greater accord than there was at Daly's. 
Everything was so fine, and the associations were so 
pleasant. No one took offense if the morning greeting 
was not as friendly as it should have been ; for we were, 
in a sense, like a family. Once, playing cricket in 
Chicago, I hurt my foot very badly. I spent an eve- 
ning of torture on the stage trying to disguise my hurt. 
Mrs. Gilbert and Miss Rehan were devoted in their 
attention during the next few days. Both in and out 
of the theatre each had consideration for the others. 
Our relations were more than cordial ; they were affec- 
tionate. We were interested — that is, the so-called Big 
Four ; we had an interest in the theatre. We were not 
partners but every year we received a bonus or a pres- 
ent. I have a gold cigarette case which Daly gave me 
one year at the end of the season. Inside was a check 
which represented my share of the profits. This semi- 
partnership gave us a feeling of responsibility, though 
I am unwilling to think that the knowledge of that 
bettered our performance. 

By the middle eighties first nights at Daly's had 



106 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

come to be important affairs. As performances they 
were in no way different from any other performance. 
Rehearsals were so constant that first nights were as 
smooth as later ones. But the audiences were very 
fine and made up of brilliant and prominent people. 
General Sherman, General Horace Porter, Mark 
Twain, H. C. Bunner, George William Curtis, Charles 
Dudley Warner, Frank R. Stockton, Edmund Clarence 
Stedman, Stanford White, F. D. Millet, Edwin A. 
Abbey and many others became very closely interested 
in what went on at Daly's, and they usually tried to 
be present at the first night of a new play or the revival 
of an old one. 

Mark Twain once wrote the theatre asking that 
tickets be reserved for him for the first night of a 
revival. He ended his letter: "I have written wonder- 
ful books, which have revolutionized politics and re- 
ligion in the world; and you might think that this is 
why my children hold my person to be sacred; but it 
isn't so; it is because I know Miss Rehan and Mr. 
Drew personally." 

Many critics thought that our best light comedy was 
Nancy and Company. It was a clever adaptation of 
Rosen's Halbedichte, with the scenes and characters 
transferred to New York. Ada Rehan and I played 
familiar characters opposite each other. 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



otis skinner, edith kingdon, and john drew in 
"nancy and company" 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 107 

In Love on Crutches I was Sidney Austin, the anony- 
mous writer of a sentimental novel and Ada Rehan was 
Annie Austin, my wife, who is dissatisfied with her 
home and yearns for a freer existence. She has entered 
into a correspondence with an author. She does not 
use her real name. Thus, these two young people who 
believe themselves unhappily married, conduct a secret 
correspondence with each other in the belief that they 
have found their affinities. The happy ending is 
always in sight. This play, though of little substance, 
was well acted, and it introduced to Daly audiences 
Edith Kingdon, the late Mrs. George Gould. As 
Margery Gwyn, she gave a spirited and beautiful 
comedy performance. 

The Railroad of Love, taken from Goldfische by 
Rosen, was a light comedy which may not have been 
an exact picture of American society, but it was re- 
ceived with enthusiasm and held the stage for some 
months. Miss Rehan was Val Osprey and I was Lieu- 
tenant Howell Everett. Her part was that of a widow 
experienced in coquetry. The lieutenant was expert 
in the subtle arts of the lady-killer. 

Edward A. Dithmar writing at the time described 
the action of this play as follows : 

They had met briefly before, but the gentleman 
did not immediately recognize the lady when they 



108 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

were introduced at Mrs. Van Ryker's ball. She 
remembered vividly, however, and could not sup- 
press her smiles when she recalled him in the act 
of captivating two simple little frauleins in a 
German railway carriage. They flirted, of course. 
He employed all his arts, but she outwitted him. 
Then chance or Cupid favored him and she was 
defeated. It was, at first, a merry war of wit and 
mock sentiment, but before two days had passed 
they were desperately in love. Then, before they 
fully understood each other, that venomous rep- 
tile, Jealousy, had crept across their flower-strewn 
path, and when it had slinked out of sight again 
the woman had written a letter that had to be 
recalled before he knew of its existence and she 
was at her wit's end to accomplish this purpose. 
There was a scene, then, full of passion and emo- 
tion, which lifted the comedy far above the level 
of frivolous entertainment. The picture of Drew 
and Miss Rehan exchanging soft words from 
either side of a half -open boudoir door remains 
vividly in the memory of folks who saw The Rail- 
road of Love, when it was a new play. The scene, 
too, in which Drew, as the blind slave of Love, 
sat obediently and patiently bending over an em- 
broidery frame and bungling the stitches, "one, 
two, three, four, cross," was novel and taking. 

This play was typical of a long line of plays. And 
the description of the action of The Railroad of Love, 
might almost be substituted for the synopsis of a num- 
ber of others. The acting and the direction of the 
stage made these plays. The success of the Daly 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 109 

Company was due to these two things rather than to 
the plays. 

But all the adaptations from the German were not so 
successful as Needles and Pins, A Night Off, Nancy 
and Company, The Railroad of Love, and Love on 
Crutches. The Passing Regiment was well played, 
but the effort to transplant a typically German mili- 
tary story to American soil was not very happy. The 
visit of a crack militia regiment to a fashionable sum- 
mer resort was scarcely an equivalent for the quarter- 
ing of professional soldiers upon the residents of a 
town by government order. Some of the happenings 
were as foreign to American soil as anything could be. 

Dollars and Sense, After Business Hours, Love in 
Harness, An International Match, and The Great 
Unknown were all from the German and maintained 
a fair standard, even if they were not extraordinary 
successes. 

We did, for the first time in America, a number of 
Pinero's plays: The Squire, Dandy Dick, Lords and 
Commons — a failure, The Cabinet Minister and The 
Magistrate. The Squire resembled Hardy's story, 
"Far From the Madding Crowd." There was a law- 
suit over this in England. Pinero insisted that the 
story had been told him, and that he had not read the 
Hardy book. Comyns Carr made a dramatization of 



no MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Hardy's story and this was done in England and at the 
Union Square Theatre in New York, where Frederick 
de Belleville played the leading part. Daly was in 
no wise involved in this suit. In our version Ada 
Rehan was Kate Verity and I her impetuous lover, 
Lieutenant Erich Thorndike. 

In Dandy Dick I played the caricature role of Major 
Tarver. This play was not a real success, nor was The 
Cabinet Minister. When Ada Rehan heard and read 
the part that was assigned to her in the latter, she re- 
fused to play it. She insisted, and with a great deal 
of justification, that the leading woman's role offered 
her no opportunities. Isabel Irving played it instead. 

When we played The Magistrate, Pinero came over 
to superintend the production. Daly wanted to put 
Ada Rehan into the part of Cis Farringdon, the boy 
whose mother will not allow him to grow up, as this 
will fix her own age. Daly thought that because Ada 
Rehan had made a success as a boy in some of the old 
comedies she could do this modern boy. Pinero would 
not have it. He threatened to take his play away from 
Daly if the latter were to persist in this casting. 

Pinero, himself, brought over from London E. Ham- 
ilton-Bell to play the boy and he was very good in the 
part. Bell later designed the costumes for The Tarn- 




Photo, by Sarony. 



JOHN DREW AND ADA REHAN IN THE SQUIRE. 
ARTHUR WING PINERO 



BY 



?*. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE in 

ing of The Shrew. Ada Rehan played Mrs. Posket, 
the mother of the boy Daly wanted her to play. 

The American production of The Magistrate was 
not altogether a happy time for Pinero. He did not 
like the idea of my playing Colonel Lukyn> nor was I 
too happy at the prospect of playing the part. The 
colonel is a choleric, Anglo-Indian officer. John Clay- 
ton had played the character in London, and he was at 
that time just what the part called for — a big, stout, 
explosive man. For the first time at Daly's I played 
an old man. I had to pad, to purl out my cheeks, wear 
side whiskers and sparse white hair. 

When I came to where Daly and Pinero were stand- 
ing on the stage at the dress rehearsal I waited for 
Daly to offer some criticism of my make-up, but he 
merely nodded and walked away. 

"Do you think the governor is displeased with my 
appearance?" I asked Pinero. 

The author was amused at Daly's attitude; he 
chuckled a minute and then said: "He merely thinks 
that in acquiring a stout old man he has lost a slim 
leading man." 

On the opening night Pinero was not in the theatre. 
He walked around New York until the play was nearly 
over. He should have been there to respond to a cur- 



112 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

tain call at the end of the second act. As he had been 
nervous about the whole production, he had absented 
himself and thought that if there would be any dem- 
onstration for the author it would be at the end of the 
play, as is the case in London. When he got to the 
theatre and saw the people filing out silently he 
thought the play was a failure. 

He came behind the scenes and shook his head; "It 
didn't go, I suppose*?" 

We told him that it was a big success and that the 
play had gone very well. There had been a call for 
him. We explained that there seldom is any great 
amount of applause at the end of a play in New 
York. If a speech is called for from the author it is 
almost always at the end of the second or third act, as 
the people here always seem to be in so great a hurry 
to get out of the building at the end of the play. 

The cast for The Magistrate was : 

Mr. Posket James Lewis 

Mr. Bullamy Charles Fisher 

Col. Lukyn John Drew 

Captain Vale Otis Skinner 

Cis Farringdon E. Hamilton-Bell 

Achille Blond Frederick Bond 

Inspector Messiter Augustus Yorke 

Agatha Posket Ada Rehan 

Charlotte Virginia Dreher 

Beatie Tomlinson Edith Kingdon 

Popham May Irwin 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 113 

A. M. Palmer, produced a great many plays from 
the French. Daly in my time in his theatre, found 
little inspiration in the French authors. We did do 
Sardou's Odette, which was rather grim and somber. 
It scarcely seemed to fit the Daly repertoire. It was 
interesting only in that it gave Ada Rehan a chance to 
do, with great success, an emotional role. We also did 
Sardou's Golden Widow, which was called Marquise 
in the original. 

I played Adolphus Doubled ot in The Lottery of 
Love. This play was an adaptation from the French 
of MM. Bisson, and Mars. Coquelin played it in this 
country in French with the original title: Les Sur- 
prises du Divorce. Before his season opened he came 
to Daly's and saw our version. He congratulated Ada 
Rehan upon her acting in what was a rather minor 
role, but he said nothing at all to me and I gathered 
he did not altogether approve of my performance. A 
short time afterwards he was playing the original play 
across the street at Palmer's Theatre. 

Augustin Daly was fond of the old comedies, and he 
spent a great deal of time, patience and rehearsal upon 
these plays. They were not always successful, for the 
spirit had, in a number of cases, fled long before these 
revivals. It was quite impossible to breathe life into 
Farquhar's The Recruiting Officer. When Daly did 
this in February of 1885 it had not been given in New 



114 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

York for forty-two years. The previous performance 
was at the old Park Theatre in Park Row. In this 
production my mother acted Silvia, the part played at 
Daly's by Ada Rehan. 

This play is important in the history of New York, 
for, according to Alls ton Brown in "A History of 
the New York Stage," The Recruiting Officer was one 
of the first plays to be given in New York. It was 
performed as early as 1734, an< ^ lt na< ^ an important 
production at the first Nassau Street Theatre, Septem- 
ber 30, 1750. This was the opening of the season. 

Our production was given February 7, 1885, with 
the parts distributed as follows : 

Captain Plume John Drew 

Capt. Brazen George Parkes 

Justice Ballance Charles Fisher 

Sergeant Kite James Lewis 

Worthy Otis Skinner 

Bullock William Gilbert 

Appletree Frederick Bond 

Pearman Edward Wilks 

Stewart W. H. Beekman 

Mistress Melinda Virginia Dreher 

Rose May Fielding 

Lucy May Irwin 

Sylvia Ada Rehan 

The revival lasted only about two weeks and then 
She Would and She Would Not was revived. Colley 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

ADA REHAN AND JOHN DREW IN FARQUHAr's "THE RECRUITING OFFICER' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 115 

Cibber had written this play in imitation of the Span- 
ish comedy of intrigue. As was the case with The 
Recruiting Officer, this play had to be shortened and 
edited for use at Daly's. The role of Hypolita, which 
was played by Miss Rehan, and that of Don Phillip, 
which fell to me, were artificial and by no means easy 
to perform. Both of these performances gained in 
later years by repetition. 

The Country Girl, which was Garrick's adaptation 
of Wycherly's The Country Wife, was still further 
altered so as to include scenes from Congreve's Love 
for Love. In this Ada Rehan was Peggy Thrift, and 
I played the leading juvenile, Belleville. Ada Rehan' s 
Peggy was a matchless portrayal. Her success in this 
was so great that she kept the play in her repertoire 
for many years. 

Of course one of the finest of the old comedy pro- 
ductions was The School for Scandal. This time Daly 
did not make the mistake that he had made at the Fifth 
Avenue Theatre. Then he so rearranged Sheridan's 
comedy as to destroy the continuity of the scenes. In 
his second production the text was altered, but not to 
so great an extent. He did, however, change the card 
party at Lady SneerwelVs to a dance. I had never 
played the part of Charles Surface before, except 
in the screen scene which had been done at a benefit 



n6 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

performance at the Academy of Music in Phila- 
delphia. 

The second Daly revival of The School for Scandal 
was a great success and the cast was : 

Sir Peter Teazle Charles Wheatleigh 

Sir Oliver Surface Harry Edwards 

Sir Benj. Backbite Sidney Herbert 

Sir Harry Bumper James Macauley 

Mrs. Candour Mrs. G. H. Gilbert 

Lady Sneerwell Adelaide Prince 

Lady Teazle Ada Rehan 

Joseph Surface George Clarke 

Charles Surface John Drew 

Crabtree Charles Leclercq 

Careless H. Bosworth 

Moses James Lewis 

Rowley John Moore 

Trip Frederick Bond 

Snake Sidney Bowkett 

Maria Edith Crane 

John Ranken Towse, in his "Sixty Years of the 
Theatre," has been so gracious as to record: "As 
Charles Surface John Drew gave one of the most ar- 
tistic performances of his career. His impersonation 
was second only to that of Charles Coghlan. Espe- 
cially was it praiseworthy for its artistic restraint in 
the drinking scene. He was perhaps a trifle too cool, 
insufficiently mercurial for the reckless company he 
affected, but he evidently remembered that Charles, 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 117 

with all his follies, was a decent fellow at bottom and 
not wholly unworthy of the eulogies of his old friend 
Rowley. His manner was elegant, and he spoke his 
lines without exaggerated emphasis, but with a full ap- 
preciation of their humor." 

In all these productions of old comedy I had one 
very great advantage which the other members of the 
cast did not have. During the rehearsals of one of 
these plays I always talked over both the play and the 
part I was to play with my mother. She knew how 
the characters were to be built up, and their traditions, 
and she knew the stage business which had been tried 
and found successful. 



CHAPTER TWELVE 

Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays 
And twenty caged nightingales do sing. 

THESE words, which were accompanied by a 
chorus of voices off stage, were my general cue 
for getting ready — that is, putting on my wig and the 
final touches of my make-up, before going on to the 
stage as Petruchio in the play proper of The Taming of 
the Shrew. This speech from The Induction is in the 
scene in which the real lord, dressed as a servant, is 
trying to convince Sly that he, one Christopher Sly, is 
really not a tinker, but a lord. 

On a night in August of 1888, when I heard these 
lines, I was leaning out of a window of a turretlike 
dressing room in the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre 
at Stratford-on-Avon. It was in the long, English 
summer twilight and an eight came into sight on the 
river. As the music which had always been my cue 
sounded, the coxswain gave the order to cease rowing, 
and the eight floated past the theatre. The rowers were 

appreciative listeners to the chorus. They did not 

118 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JOHN DREW AS PETRUCHIO IN "THE TAMING OF THE SHREW' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 119 

know that an American company was playing The 
Taming of the Shrew in Shakespeare's home town. 

Actually, the performance that night was no differ- 
ent from the one we ordinarily gave, but I think it was 
the most picturesque night I have ever spent in the 
theatre. 

The house bill announced that at The Memorial 
Theatre, Friday, August 3, 1888, Mr. Augustin Daly's 
company of American Comedians would give for the 
benefit of the memorial library fund Shakespeare's com- 
edy The Taming of the Shrew, as presented by them 
for one hundred twenty-five nights in New York and 
lately played with great success at The Gaiety Theatre, 
London. The bill went on to add : "This comedy, as 
presented by Mr. Daly's Company, will be performed 
for the first time in Stratford-on-Avon, and the pro- 
ceeds will be generously devoted to the Library Fund 
of the Shakespeare Memorial." 

Earlier that day we had gone to Stratford. We 
were personally conducted by William Winter, who 
was always at the Daly parties in New York or Lon- 
don, and on special trips like this he invariably ac- 
companied us. As he had written books about the 
Shakespeare country, he was the acknowledged head of 
the expedition and in front of the Shakespeare house he 
made a speech. We were quite a crowd, for in addi- 



-3J1 



Memorial ffjbeatre, j3ttatforb*on=g9tv>on, 

Friday Evening, August 3rd, 1888, 

AT 7.80, 

AUGUSTIN DALY'S COMPANY OF COMEDIANS 

IN SHAKKSrEARES COMEDY, 

Wfy* flaming $f tfy tt^ww , 

(Vrn\«xa\ for tho occasion by AUGUSTIN DALY). 



Characters in the "Induction." 

A I/ohV Mr. George Clarke 

( !hri.slo|i1tf!r Sly . A dtunken Tinier.. ... Mr. William Giluekt 

A Huntsman ; ,...Mr. Eugene Oumoxd 

Tim Ifimtam Miss Lizzie St. Quentix 

A Tiitfo Representing a Lady Mastt-r W. Colmsk 

lliuitsmt!!! Messrs. Rev.i.l, Murphy, and Finns* 

I'luyiTM Messrs. Bond and Wood 

Persons in the Comedy. 

UnntisU ...... A rich gentleman of Padua Mr. Charles Fishes 

Viiu-oiiltn An old gentleman of l'ita Mr. John Mooue 

IjHtwntio Son to Vincent io, he ing Jiianea Mr. Otis Skinner 

1'ittriicio A gentleman of Verona, suitor to Katherine... Mr. John Dbew 

Grcinio An old gentleman I Suitors to \ ...Mr. Charles Leclbrij 

lliirtcnsio A young gentleman I liianca ) ... Mr. Joseph Holland 

A Ptfdunt An old felloto, set up to represent Vincentio Mr. John Wood 

Grttmin ... Serving man to Petrucio Mr. James Levis 

Bi.mdello ) I Mr.E. P. Wilks 

_ . Servants to Lucent to j __ _ _ 

Tranio ) I Mr. Frederick Bond 

OuoNtH, ftc, by Miksos Campbell, Sears, Conron, Vislniro, Ferrell, Cooke, &c. 

Kutlicriuo The Shrew Miss Ada Rehan 

Bianca Iter Sister Miss Pii.ede Russell 

A Widow Who marries Jlortensio Miss Alice Hood 

Curtm Of PetruciVt household Mrs. G. II. Gilbert 



St 



From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
AUGUSTIN DALY'S MOST FAMOUS PRODUCTION 
120 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 121 

tion to the entire cast for a big Shakespearian produc- 
tion there were Daly, his wife and his brother ; William 
Winter; an American playwright, Henry Dam; the 
attendant stage people and all the London correspon- 
dents of the American newspapers. 

In front of the Shakespeare House, just as Winter 
was making his speech, two natives were attracted to 
this unusually large crowd, thinking that something 
had happened, that someone had dropped dead or had 
had a fit. They listened a minute to Winter. 

"Aw, come on, Bill," said one of them; "it's the 
same old game." 

They had seen American tourists before, and on the 
rest of our long walk to Anne Hathaway's cottage we 
attracted little attention. 

In the afternoon we rowed on the river. Daly, who 
always stage-managed things, even to the seats the 
minor people were to occupy on trains, arranged us in 
boats. Otis Skinner and I rowed the boat in which 
Daly and Mrs. Daly and Ada Rehan were seated. At 
one point one of the other boats threatened us. As it 
was part of Daly's scheme that he should be first, we 
were urged to new effort and were soon in the lead. 

During our stay in Stratford we stopped at the Red 
Lion Inn. On the night of our arrival we dined at 
Clopton Hall, the residence of Sir Arthur Hodgson, 



122 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

the mayor of Stratford. The Lord of The Induction of 
The Taming of the Shrew is supposed to be the Baron 
Clopton of Shakespeare's time, and the hall where the 
play is supposed to be given before Christopher Sly, 
the hall in which we were now entertained. The next 
day we had luncheon at Avonbank, the residence of 
Charles Flower, and Robert Laff an, the headmaster of 
the King Edward VI Grammar School, entertained us 
at tea. 

The attention that we received on this visit to Strat- 
ford was very different from the reception that we got 
on our unheralded first visit to London in the summer 
of 1884. Then the social season was over, and we were 
really too late to do well. We played in a little thea- 
tre, Toole's, in King William Street, just off the 
Strand. 

Before our opening Jim Lewis and I went to see 
Charles Wyndham and Mary Moore at the Criterion. 
This graceful comedian, who had been a surgeon in the 
American Civil War and was always a great favorite 
in this country, was playing one of those delightfully 
done English comedies that he and Mary Moore did for 
so many years. 

Lewis and I came away from this performance 
gloomily. We did not think that our company could 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 123 

succeed where people were accustomed to such work 
as Wyndham and his associates were giving. We 
opened in 7-20-8, one of our numerous plays from the 
German. We were required in London to call this 
play by its subtitle, Casting a Boomerang. Yorke 
Stephens had copyrighted a play from the German 
original and had used the title 7-20-8. We did Dol- 
lars and Sense, also a modern play; but our greatest 
success was won with the old comedy, She Would and 
She Would Not. After our London engagement we 
returned to New York. The venture was not signally 
successful, nor yet so discouraging as to prevent our 
returning. 

The second visit to London was in May, 1886. This 
time the season was right. The company opened in 
A Night Off. "It was a greeting to dear old friends, 
and in spirit at least there was a hearty shaking of 
hands across the footlights, with Mr. Lewis and Mrs. 
Gilbert, Mr. Drew and Miss Rehan, Mr. Skinner and 
Miss Dreher and their clever companions," observed 
The Era. The same paper also said: "Nowhere is 
greater regard paid to the sex, and this, of course, is 
reflected upon the stage. There women are placed on 
a nearly equal status with men, in personal liberty, in 
intellectual attainments; comedy is likely to flourish; 



124 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

and if the comedy of America has hardly as yet taken 
the highest place, there is little doubt as to its ultimate 
development, influence and power." 

Of our performance in Nancy and Company^ which 
followed, the Saturday Review said: "There is not 
now in London, an English company as well chosen, 
as well trained, as brilliant in the abilities of its indi- 
vidual members, or as well harmonized as a whole, as 
the admirable company which Mr. Daly directs. They 
suggest the Comedie Franchise at its very best, when 
it is not frozen stiff by its own chill dignity. Every 
performance shows that they are controlled by a single 
mind strong in the knowledge of its own aim and 
ability." 

Of course by this time we were very successful and 
had acquired a tremendous following. We were talked 
of and asked about a great deal. At a reception a 
woman asked me: "Have you seen the Dalys?" 

I said: "Oh, yes, I glanced over The Post and The 
Telegraph" 

"Oh, no," she protested, "I mean the Dalys." Then 
she recognized me as one of the players. 

Henry Labouchere, that great journalist and editor, 
wrote in Truth: "When Daly first came to England, 
the company was pronounced by our theatrical guides, 
philosophers and friends as a complete failure. At 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JOHN DREW, MRS. GILBERT, AND JAMES LEWIS, IN "7-20-8," THE FIRST 
PLAY DONE BY AUGUSTIN DALy's COMPANY IN LONDON 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 125 

present, although the company is the same and the 
plays are the same, everything is declared to be perfec- 
tion." 

Royalty attended our performances, and one night, 
when we were playing at the Gaiety Theatre, the Prince 
of Wales, later Edward VII, asked Ada Rehan and my- 
self to come into his box. With him was his wife, now 
the dowager Queen Alexandra, and a young relation 
of hers from Denmark. The Prince of Wales was 
very affable, but he rather ignored Daly who ushered 
us into the box. In the managerial department of the 
London theatres everyone wore dinner clothes. Daly 
never dressed for the theatre. 

The Prince of Wales asked us whether or not Shakes- 
peare was popular in America. He had seen the ad- 
vance billing that we were to do The Taming of the 
Shrew. The play that night was Love on Crutches, 
and he did not seem to care for it. This play never 
did go so well in London as it had in New York. 

When we got back to the stage some of the other 
players crowded round us. They wanted to know 
about our reception. 

"Who was the other man in the box?" asked Le- 
clercq. 

"He is one of the Princes of Denmark. The Prin- 
cess of Wales is his aunt," I explained. 



126 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

"What's he doing over here?" 

"I don't know. They did not let us in on the pur- 
pose of his mission." 

"I know what he's doing here," said Jim Lewis; "he 
has come over here from Denmark to collect royalties 
from Henry Irving for Hamlet" 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

ON our trip abroad in 1886, we went to Germany 
and played in Hamburg and Berlin. This was 
the first and only time that an entire American com- 
pany visited Germany. This jaunt, which Daly under- 
took as an advertisement of the company, was really 
a greater success than might have been supposed. Of 
course, in neither German city were they particularly 
pleased with the adapted version of their own plays, 
played by an English-speaking company. The writers 
of these plays were extremely glad to see us, as they 
had made a good thing out of the Daly adaptations 
and, because of the higher royalties paid, they made 
more money out of the American rights. 

In Hamburg six plays were given: Love on 
Crutches, A Night Off, Nancy and Company, A Wo- 
man's Won't, The Country Girl and She Would and 
She Would Not. For the two English plays, The 
Country Girl and She Would and She Would Not full 
arguments were printed in the program. It was taken 
for granted that the German farces would be familiar, 

and merely the title and author of the German plays 

127 



128 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

were given. It so happened that Love on Crutches, 
that is to say, the German play from which it was 
made, had never been given in Hamburg, and the audi- 
ence was as much bewildered as if the play were to- 
tally foreign. The performance started out with a 
good deal of vivacity, but as scene after scene went by 
without any appreciation or laughter the players nat- 
urally became subdued and a little bewildered. 

In Berlin we opened in A Night Off. This play had 
been an enormous success when done in the original 
and, while it was allowed that our performance was 
smooth, the whole was declared to be lacking in distinc- 
tion. The estimate of the players varied. One critic 
wrote that Miss Rehan was a "good soubrette" and 
another that "Miss Rehan, the darling of the company, 
was ridiculous in tasteless gowns." The general opin- 
ion seemed to be that Mrs. Gilbert was not funny. 
Some critics thought Lewis too funny to be natural, 
and others found his naturalness astonishing. Skin- 
ner and I got off easily and were said to give value to 
our dry humor. 

The two old comedies, She Would and She Would 
Not and The Country Girl, were highly praised, espe- 
cially the acting. Nancy and Company met a better 
fate than A Night Off in which we opened. The orig- 
inal German of this had not been successful, and the 



Sonnabend Abend, den 28. August 1886. 

Letztes Gastspiel und zweite Auffiihrung 

Herro -A.xxgrtxstiia. Daly^s 

amerikanisehe Bearbeitnng des weltberflhmten Schwanks in 4 Aufzugea. 

„Der Raub der Sabinerinnen" von F. und l\ v. Schonthan, 

UBter dem neuen Titel: 

A Night Off. 

PERSONEN: 

Jpftjnian- Babbit*, Professor- <fcr YoTgwciyMif?- to der 

UniTcrsitat zn Camptown Mr. JAMES LEWIS 

Harry Damask, dessen Schwiegersohn .Mr. OTIS SKINNER 

Jack Mulberry, ein Glucksjager, nnter dem Nanieu 

„Chnmley" Mr. JOHN DREW 

Lord Mulberry, dessen Vater Mr. WM. GILBERT 

Marcos Brotns Snap, Director einer Schaospielertruppe Mr. CHARLES LECLERCQ 

Prowl, Tharsteher an der Universitat Mr. P. BOND 

Mrs. Zantippa Babbitt, Frao Professorin, Vorstand des 

Hauswesens . . Mrs. G. H. GILBERT 

Angelica Damask, dereu affeste Tocbter . , . . . Miss VIRGINIA DREHER 

Susan, Dienstmadchen bei dem Professor Miss MAY JRWIN 

Maria, Dienstmagd bei Dr. Damask Miss MAY SYLYIE 

Nisbe, der jongste „Unbold" der Familie Miss ADA REHAN 

Qrt der Haodlung: Abwechselnd bei dem P> fessor und in Dr. Damask's Wohnun-. 
Zeit: Gegev*rarL 



J 

AN AMERICAN COMPANY TAKES AN ENGLISH VERSION OF A 
GEEMAN PLAY BACK TO GEEMANY 



129 



130 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

critics were shocked to find that it was more humorous 
in the adaptation than in the original. 

Of the performance the Berliner Tageblatt said: 
"We see them on their strongest side, an exuberant hu- 
mor which passes all bounds, and which our Germans 
have not courage to attempt for fear of lapsing into 
the coarse." 

The English-speaking people all attended our per- 
formances. 

When we were in Berlin the King of Portugal was 
visiting the old Kaiser, and I saw the whole royal fam- 
ily. There was a great crowd on Unter den Linden, and 
I asked a policeman what they were waiting for, and 
he told me that the Kaiser was coming from Potsdam 
and would be along shortly. The carriage came into 
sight presently. Amid the acclaim of the crowd, the 
German emperor touched his helmet in salute with 
white gloved hand. In the next carriage were Freder- 
ick Wilhelm, then the crown prince, and the King of 
Portugal. In the third carriage was this last Kaiser, 
now in exile. I was told that the old emperor lived in 
the utmost simplicity, and that he had a camp bed in 
his palace. 

When we left London for Hamburg just three mem- 
bers of our company could speak any German — Henry 
Widmer, who was in charge of our orchestra, Otis Skin- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 131 

ner and myself. Widmer was a German- American, 
Skinner knew some German, and I knew a little. One 
other member of the company claimed to know some 
German, but as he told Lewis that a sign on a car in 
the station "Nicht Rauchen" (No Smoking) meant 
"Night Riding" or a Pullman Car, we lost confidence 
in his knowledge of the language. 

In Hamburg we played at the Thalia Theater and 
stayed at the Alster Hotel. One night after the thea- 
tre we went to an open air garden. While we were 
having our sandwiches and beer, a very eruptive, rest- 
less child of about ten was tearing about between the 
tables. 

As I did not think that we should be overheard I 
said to Lewis: "I didn't suppose they would have 
such fresh kids over here/' 

The boy stopped and said to me : "I can speak Eng- 
lish as good as you. I know you. You're James Lewis 
and John Drew." He told us that he came from New 
York and that his father, who was sitting at one of 
the tables back of us, had told him that we were actors 
in the Daly Company that was playing at the Thalia 
Theater. 

In Berlin we played at The Wallner Theater, which 
was an important theatre, and mounted men were sta- 
tioned in front of it as at the Opera in Paris. The 



132 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

whole theatre was extremely well ordered. Maids were 
provided for the women, and dressers for the men. The 
dressers, who were really tailor's helpers or bushelmen, 
were very efficient. 

The dresser who looked after me was so zealous in 
the performance of his job that he followed me onto 
the stage one night. In Love on Crutches there was a 
scene in the last act in which Lewis and I stood at the 
back of the stage, partly concealed from the audience. 
Mrs. Gilbert and William Gilbert (he was no relation 
whatever) were playing a scene that was full of laughs 
before an American audience. 

On this night before a German audience it was going 
very badly. Lewis whispered to me: "I'll bet you 
that Grandma gets the first laugh." 

Before I could answer him I got the first laugh, for 
just then my dresser, who had followed me down from 
the dressing room, pulled up my coat at the neck. He 
had not been quite satisfied with the way the coat set 
and righted it in full view of the audience. 

After the performance we went to a garden where 
we could get something to eat and listen to some music. 
Jim Lewis and Mrs. Lewis, May Irwin, Otis Skinner 
and I sat there under the trees for some time. When 
it came time to pay our checks, Lewis insisted that he 
would pay. He suddenly discovered that he had no 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
EDITH KINGDON (gOULd) AS SHE APPEARED WITH THE DALY COMPANY 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 133 

money. He had taken the precaution to change his 
money to his stage clothes early in the evening, but 
had not remembered to put it back. He decided to get 
it now. We were to wait for him. 

We sat there for an interminable time, and then, as 
Mrs. Lewis was worried about him, we went out to 
look for him. We found him only about two houses 
away leaning against the wall. He was exhausted; he 
had been wandering about everywhere. 

I asked him: "Did you find your wad?" 

"Find it! I couldn't find the theatre," he said in 
an injured manner. "I met several policemen and they 
affected not to understand me." 

"What did you ask them?" 

"Why for the 'Wolmar' Theater of course." 

"If you pronounced it that way, it is no wonder they 
couldn't direct you to the theatre," both Skinner and 
I protested. 

Lewis was never convinced that there was any 
reason for his not getting his money till the next day 
except a willful failure to understand him on the part 
of the police. 

Our happy relations were somewhat strained in Ber- 
lin by the abrupt departure from the company of Edith 
Kingdon. Just before we left London she had been 
called upon with almost no notice to play Ada Rehan's 



134 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

part in A Night Off, as the latter was ill. She played 
the part very well. In Love on Crutches she had scored 
a great comedy success both in New York and London. 
When she left the company on account of a misunder- 
standing with Daly, Virginia Dreher was forced to 
play Margery Gwyn without sufficient rehearsal. 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

IN Germany there was no entertaining for the com- 
pany, but in London we were asked about a great 
deal and we met a great many of the people interested 
in the arts — the writers, both English and American, 
editors, painters and a great many persons of our own 
profession. 

Now and then we were lured to some outside gather- 
ing, where the intent to make a circus out of the Daly 
Company was all too clear. We were invited to a re- 
ception at the house of a woman who must be called by 
the name that Dickens found for all women like her, 
Mrs. Leo Hunter. 

With Mrs. Hunter it was a matter of pride that no 
one came to her house who was not famous for some- 
thing. At this reception Mrs. Hunter was very much 
afraid that I was not meeting everybody, and she 
introduced me to a very pleasant young man who was 
standing near us. She told him all about the Daly 
Company and the parts that I played in the various 
plays. Then thinking that I might get the impression 

that he was not known for anything in particular and 

135 



136 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

so that I might definitely place him, she said to me: 
"You may remember his favorite uncle was so fright- 
fully mangled in the underground last year." 

Of James McNeill Whistler we saw a great deal. 
One time at the house of an English authoress he 
showed me his book, "The Gentle Art of Making Ene- 
mies," which I had not seen before. He was on the 
arm of the sofa on which I was sitting, and as I turned 
over the pages he would point our especially the things 
that seemed good to him. He had a boyish delight in 
showing me the roasts and the slaps. 

The Whistlers were always late for dinner. One 
night we were all at the house of Edwin A. Abbey, the 
painter. Mrs. Whistler arrived first and apologized 
for being late. She said that she had been detained 
because their house was on fire. Everyone sympathized 
with her. 

When Whistler came in shortly afterwards he was 
entirely unperturbed. Mrs. Whistler, having forgot- 
ten to tell him that she meant to use so sensational an 
excuse, tried to tip him off: "Well, Jim," she said, 
"how is the fire?" 

"The fire? What fire?" 

"The fire at the house," she said. 

"Oh, it's all right," Whistler said: "it's burning 
still." 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 137 

Whistler of course thought that Mrs. Whistler 
meant the fire in the grate. 

One Sunday I went to lunch at the house of George 
Boughton, the American painter. Boughton was 
standing before the fire-place with a man who was part- 
ly bald and had whitish hair, white mustache and a 
small white beard — chin whiskers they are called in 
make-up. 

Boughton turned to his companion: "You know 
John Drew, don't you?" 

The small man answered: "No, I do not; but I 
have had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Drew and Miss 
Rehan act in The Taming of the Shrew, and I am 
pleased to tell Mr. Drew how much I enjoyed the play 
and how pleased I was with such talent and success." 

I thought to myself: "He's going a bit strong." 

I asked Boughton when I got a chance: "Who is 
this old chap?" 

"Robert Browning," he told me somewhat impa- 
tiently. 

I was puzzled at my own stupidity. It seemed so 
silly that I should not recognize the famous poet whose 
picture I had seen so many times. 

Irving we saw frequently during our London visits. 
On my last trip to London with the Daly company in 
the early nineties we did As You Like It. Irving had 



138 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

a box for the opening night, and after the performance 
he came behind the scenes and congratulated Ada 
Rehan upon her Rosalind. 

He turned to me, patted me on both shoulders and 
said: "Drew, you got away with that wrestling scene 
wonderfully, but of course you don't want to play 
Orlando; no, no, no, n-o-o." 

He emphasized this in a fashion that made it seem 
indicative of but the faintest praise, and left me in no 
doubt as to what he thought of my performance. 

When we did The Taming of the Shrew in London, 
no one seemed more genuinely enthusiastic about the 
Katherine of Ada Rehan and my Petruchio than Henry 
Irving. He gave a most delightful supper for us at 
the Beefsteak Club. Ellen Terry, Sarah Bernhardt, 
who was then playing in London, Damala, the Greek 
actor, Lord Ronald Gower, who has a bust of Shakes- 
peare at Stratford, and John Tenniel, the cartoonist of 
Punch, and the illustrator of "Alice in Wonderland," 
were all at this supper. 

One night at the Beefsteak Club Frank Burnand, the 
editor of Punch, and a number of others were sitting 
around talking. There was a good deal of bantering, 
and George Grossmith said of a remark made by one 
of the party: "That's like some of the good things 
that are sent to Punch, Frank." 




Photo, by Sarony. 

JOHN DREW AS ROBIN HOOD IN TENNYSON'S PLAY, "THE FORESTERS 



.»_ «< 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 139 

Burnand replied : "Yes, and they don't get in." 
Grossmith answered : "I don't know who it is who 
sends the good things to Punch, but they don't get 



in." 



This created a great laugh at Burnand's expense. 

Tennyson I met at his place in the country, and he 
talked to me of the play that he was then writing, The 
Foresters. We did this play later at Daly's Theatre; 
in fact, the part of Robin Hood in this was the last new 
part I played under the management of Augustin Daly. 
I was no longer a member of the Daly company when 
the play was done by them in London. Arthur Bou- 
chier took my part. The Foresters was never a great 
success. By reason of Arthur Sullivan's music and 
Daly's production, the play managed to run for a time 
in New York. 

Swinburne and Hardy were at many of the dinners 
and suppers that we attended in London, and Hardy 
wrote a very charming rhymed address that Ada Rehan 
read at a benefit for the Actors' Dramatic Fund. 

Meredith I met once in the country. He was stay- 
ing with a friend near where we were at Weybridge in 
Surrey, and we went over to see him. 

Some of the other guests danced in bare feet on the 
lawn. 

I asked Meredith if he were not going to dance. 



Ho MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

"I am for other than dancing measures," he said, 
quoting from As You Like It. 

I sat on the porch with him in the bright moonlight. 
He talked of the dancers and he thought them rather 
silly, but his comments were not caustic and not nearly 
so sharp as his descriptions of his characters in his 
books. 

One night at dinner I was rather taken aback by 
W. S. Gilbert. I told him that I had known, learned 
and loved his "Bab Ballads." 

"Oh, they're juvenile indiscretions," he said in a 
rather incisive way which seemed to pooh-pooh my 
estimate of the work. 

He surprised me still more when he told me that 
his best work was his serious plays, The Wicked World 
and Charity. I had played in Charity in the seventies 
with the Fifth Avenue Company, and of the players 
only Fanny Davenport liked the play at all. 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

IN 1886 when we played in Paris, both the English 
and American Ambassadors had boxes for the first 
performance of the Daly Company at the Theatre des 
Vaudevilles. Coquelin attended every performance, 
and the English and American residents were enthusi- 
astic followers of our short season. 

The plays for the three-day engagement of "La 
Troupe Americaine d' Aug us tin Daly du Daly's Thea- 
tre, New York (Etats Unis)" were A Woman's Won't 
(one act play), Love on Crutches, A Night Off, A 
Country Girl and Nancy and Company. 

It must be remembered that this Paris engagement 
was less than twenty years after the Prussian war, and 
there was a good deal of bitterness about our plays 
from the German. It was argued, with some justifica- 
tion, that it was not consistent to license our plays 
and to forbid the giving of the operas of Wagner. 

One critic wrote: "Mr. Daly's artists probably 

have much talent, but they deceive themselves and 

have confounded Paris with a village." Another said 

that Daly hired unknowns to translate "the low Ger- 

141 



142 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

man repertoire" and then had the "effrontery" to put 
his own name on the work. M. Besson, of L'Evene- 
ment, thought that the repertoire was "fit only for 
boarding schools," and M. Sarcey, the leading critic of 
the day, wrote that the plays might be seen by "any 
young girl." These opinions are interesting because 
some of the critics thought the plays too realistic, 
coarse and offensive. 

Not all of the criticism was adverse and hostile. 
Some of the critics were sympathetic. M. de Blowitz, 
the correspondent of the London Times in Paris, wrote 
in correspondence to his paper that the failure of the 
Daly Company to win the praise of the critics in Paris 
was due to the fact that the French writers did not 
know English, and that those Frenchmen who under- 
stood the language appreciated the fine acting of the 
company in light comedy. 

It was very hot in Paris that summer, and the time 
we were not rehearsing or playing, Otis Skinner and I 
spent at a swimming bath on the other side of the 
Seine. The place was inclosed, but open to the sky. 
There were dressing rooms all round the sides. We 
occasioned much talk by going up on top of these and 
diving into the water. It was not really high, but 
the other bathers seemed to think it foolhardy and dan- 
gerous. 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

JOHN DREW AND VIRGINIA DREHER IN "THE COUNTRY GIRL,' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 143 

Our last night at the theatre was crowded with ex- 
citement. The gas was turned off in the dressing rooms 
before some of us had time to wash off our make-up. I 
lost my trunk. The concierge, feeling that he had not 
received a sufficient tip from Daly, waged a most fear- 
ful quarrel with him. The manager was accused 
among other things of having taken three towels that 
belonged to the theatre. 

While I was having my own battle with the man I 
had seen take my trunk — and he professed to know 
nothing about it — I could hear part of this larger 
engagement. 

"What's he saying now 9" Daly, who spoke no 
French, would demand of his interpreter. 

"Oh, I can't tell you. I can't tell you," the inter- 
preter would answer every few seconds. 

The next day, before we left town, I went back to 
the theatre again and there was my trunk in a con- 
spicuous place where I could not have failed to see it, 
had it been there the night before. I put it on my 
cab without the help of any of the theatre people and 
drove off amid their imprecations and anathemas. 

Two years later, when the Daly Company again 
played the same theatre, the same stage-door keeper 
greeted me as an old acquaintance. This second visit 
to Paris was a far happier experience for the Daly 



144 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Company. This time we gave three plays during an 
engagement that lasted six days: Nancy and Com- 
pany, The Railroad of Love and The Taming of the 
Shrew. 

The critics devoted their attention to Shakespeare. 
A writer in he Petit Journal exclaimed: "Pauvre 
Shakespeare! What crimes are committed in thy 
name, and how fortunate that thou hast been dead 
some time!" M. Sarcey found the comedy illogical. 
He could see no fun in one character hitting another 
with a leg of mutton. When I read this criticism to 
Daly, he was amused and, though he knew no French, 
he at once called attention to Moliere's Le Marriage 
Force, in which stuffed rocks and clubs are plied with 
great advantage on the classic French stage. 

Many of the critics thought there was too much 
horse play; they were shocked when Katherine boxed 
Petruchio's ears. They found too much violence in the 
playing. Then, too, the play was coarse and flat and 
dull. 

Figaro, which discovered that I resembled Irving, 
said: "The attitudes, movements, walk, speech and 
action of these Americans are so different from what 
we are accustomed to see and hear that there would 
be neither justice nor profit in criticising them. It is 
another race, another conception, another art. " 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

*¥ TERY different had been the reception given to 
\ The Taming of the Shrew when we gave it 
earlier that same summer in London. This was the 
first performance of a Shakespearian play given by an 
American Company in Europe. The Times said that 
till this Daly production, it seemed that this comedy 
was "fated to rank as the most despised of the poet's 
productions," and that hitherto the play had "received 
scant justice from the professional interpreters — so at 
least it would appear — in view of this splendid re- 
vival of the comedy, which, sumptuously mounted and 
acted with admirable spirit and point, keeps the house 
throughout its five acts in a state of continuous merri- 
ment." 

The summer that we were playing The Taming of 
the Shrew in London, I was going down to Sandown to 
see the Eclipse Stakes — that was the year that Bendigo 
won — and at Waterloo Station my companion bought 
a copy of Punch. 

He opened it, laughed and handed the paper to me. 

"Look at that," he said. 

MS 



146 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

It was a cartoon showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal 
looking out of a box in the theatre and in the box on 
the opposite side were the Bancrofts. On the stage 
were Ada Rehan as Katherine and myself as Petruchio. 
We were depicted in the clothes worn in the scene in 
which Petruchio dresses fantastically. I was supposed 
to be saying to these representatives of the English 
stage who were seated in the boxes: "I guess we'll 
show you how to play your gosh-dinged Shakespeare." 

The year that Ormonde won the Derby, Daly hired 
a four-in-hand and we drove down to Epsom. Daly 
had wanted to have a matinee that day, but William 
Terriss, who was associated with Daly in our first two 
trips abroad, refused to have a performance on the 
ground that nobody would be in town. 

Daly somewhat reluctantly consented to go to the 
races, in which he was not much interested, and Ter- 
riss accompanied us. Following his usual custom Daly 
arranged the seating on the drag and reserved the box 
seat with the driver for himself. 

"You can't do that," I protested. 

"Why not?" he asked. 

"It just isn't done," I told him; "a woman is always 
on the box seat next to the driver." 

With very bad grace he yielded the seat he had 
chosen for himself to Ada Rehan. 



CSucuU/tUs, 




Yankee Shakgpeares came to town 
On Fetruchvfs pony; 



Such a feather in their cap! 
Hope they HI make their money. 



CARTOON FROM PUNCH 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 147 

We saw one of the greatest Derbys that had been 
run for many years. Ormonde, owned by the Duke 
of Westminster, was a great horse. He was ridden 
by Fred Archer, the leading English jockey. Ormonde 
was later sold and sent to the Argentine, and he was 
eventually bought by my old friend, William McDon- 
ough, of California. Years after his Epsom victory I 
saw Ormonde in the stud at McDonough's ranch. 

In London I met some of the American artists and 
writers that I had not met in this country — Sargent, 
Henry James and Bret Harte. The first time that I 
met Bret Harte was the Fourth of July, 1888. He 
had been United States consul in Glasgow and was at 
the time I met him living in London. 

That summer there was a cyclorama in London that 
was very popular, called Niagara in London. It was 
the usual entertainment in the conventional round 
building that somewhat resembled the outside of 
Shakespeare's Theatre, the Globe. The management, 
being partly American and Canadian, gave a supper 
in the cyclorama building on the night of the Fourth. 
Bret Harte, Edward Phelps, who was then our minis- 
ter to England, and many prominent Americans were 
there. 

While we walked around and looked at this con- 
structed picture of Niagara, which was not so wonder- 



148 my years on the stage 

ful to us as to the Englishmen present, Lewis and I 
talked to Bret Harte. He was a very handsome man, 
and he impressed us very much, though his manner was 
quite casual. 

After the two national anthems were sung, the sup- 
per room opened and the people flocked in and found 
seats for themselves. Lewis and I were sitting next to 
an Englishman, who was evidently very hungry and 
very thirsty. Mr. Phelps, the American minister, 
walked into the room and looked about, over the tables. 
He wore side whiskers and to a chance observer looked 
not unlike a maitre d'hotel. The Englishman, not 
knowing who it was, mistook him for one of the waiters 
and asked him to bring him a bottle of Apollinaris. 
He pointed to a bottle near by that had been opened. 

Phelps very goodnaturedly took the bottle and put 
it down in front of the Englishman and started to walk 
away. 

The Englishman was very irate because Phelps had 
not filled the glass. He reprimanded him and, as he 
did so, he stood up and called to the retreating figure : 
"What do you mean by this? And who are you?" 

Phelps turned and answered: "My name is Phelps. I 
am the American minister at the court of St. James's." 

The Englishman fell back in his chair so violently 
that he knocked the chair over backwards. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 149 

"Did you get his back- fall?" Lewis asked of me. 

In theatrical parlance a ' 'back- fall" is a comic flop 
or fall on the stage. It is an old-fashioned, low-com- 
edy method of denoting terror or fright. 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

THE most brilliant entertainment given Tor us 
during our many stays in London was the supper 
which John Hare gave at the Garrick Club on June 9, 
1888. It was a wonderful list of guests and contained 
almost everyone prominent in the arts — actors, authors, 
painters, managers — Millais, Henry James, Du Maur- 
ier, Ambassador Phelps and the Earls of Lathorn, Lon- 
desborough and Cork and Orrery were all present. 

For some reason, known only to himself, Daly ab- 
sented himself from this supper. It was believed that 
he was annoyed that Hare had not submitted to him 
the list of those members of the Daly Company who 
were to be asked. Irving was furious at Daly, and so 
was William Winter, who was one of Daly's closest 
friends. 

When John Hare made a speech, I had to respond 

in place of Daly. I was not very happy, and I was a 

little upset because Hare had used a few of the things 

that I was going to say. I was so disturbed that at one 

portion of my speech I halted like an actor who forgets 

his lines. I do not know what happened to me or what 

150 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



151 



caused the sudden lapse, but I could not preserve the 
continuity of the thing. I knew it was very bad. 

When I had finished Sir Arthur Sullivan, who was 
sitting a few seats away from me, came over and shook 
me by the hand and said: "It was fine. Capital !" 

Lord Cork, who was sitting just beyond Sullivan, 
also said : "Capital ! Capital !" 

I thought it was very good of them, but it did not 
deceive me. It took me a long time to recover from 
my embarrassment. 

Charles Wyndham gave a garden party one Sunday. 
That year he had Pope's famous villa at Twickenham 
on the Thames. Lewis, Ada Rehan, Mrs. Gilbert, Daly 
and I went down. It rained all day, and we were 
rather cooped up in the tents where the refreshments 
were served. 

While the band was playing Wyndham took hold of 
his sister, who was the wife of Bronson Howard, the 
American author of Wyndham' s successful play 
Brighton {Saratoga in this country), and rushed her 
out on the fearfully wet lawn and danced around a few 
times. He was determined that there should be danc- 
ing at his party. He put up an umbrella, and it looked 
so ridiculous to see him waltzing around on the wet 
lawn one arm holding up the umbrella and the other 
arm around his sister. 



152 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

During the run of The Taming of the Shrew we 
were asked to play for a dramatic fund benefit at the 
Drury Lane Theatre. We played the fourth act of 
The Taming of the Shrew — the scene in which 
Petruchio trying to frighten and impress Katherine 
with his masterfulness, whacks his servants about the 
stage with his whip and a "property" leg of mutton. 
His servants were played by Lewis as Grumio, Wil- 
liam Collier, Hamilton Revelle and Stephen Murphy, 
who afterwards took the name of Stephen Grattan 
when he went to the Lyceum Theatre in New York. 
Murphy had a pedantic fashion of speaking, and he 
took himself and his work very seriously. 

In this fourth-act scene the servants are intensely 
surprised at Petruchio' s behavior toward them, as they 
had known him always as a kindly master. When 
Petruchio and Katherine exit, the servant played by 
Stephen Murphy has to say: "Peter, didst ever see 
the like?" referring to Petruchio's extraordinary be- 
havior. 

Murphy was much impressed with the fact that he 
was about to utter something of the immortal bard in 
the famous Drury Lane Theatre where Garrick, Mac- 
ready and Kemble had played. At the rehearsal he 
said to Collier in an awed voice: "Collier, do you 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 153 

realize that I am to have the precious privilege of 
speaking a line of Shakespeare in this sacred fane?" 

Collier interrupted with, "What's a fane?' 

Murphy, impatient at the interruption, replied: 
"Fane? A fane is a convertible term for temple. It 
is a temple." 

"Oh, yes," said Collier, apparently entirely satisfied 
with the definition. 

When, in the actual playing of the scene, the cue 
came for Murphy's great moment Collier came in 
quickly on the cue and spoke the line: "Peter, didst 
ever see the like?" before the outraged Murphy had 
a chance to do so. 

Collier sensed from Murphy's expression of disap- 
pointment and anger that there would be trouble. In- 
deed, as soon as the scene was over Murphy made a 
dash for Collier. Collier, being more agile, avoided 
the rush and was chased all over the stage behind the 
scenes by Murphy. 

I demanded to know from these two fellows what 
caused the horrible commotion while Ada Rehan and 
I were playing the last scene. Murphy told me that 
Collier had deliberately tried to belittle him; that he 
had robbed him of his great opportunity to read a line 
of Shakespeare in Drury Lane and go down into theat- 
rical history with the Keans, Kembles and Garrick. 



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

THE years that we did not go to London the Daly 
Company made a tour to the Pacific Coast. In 
the lobby of the Baldwin Hotel in San Francisco Jim 
Lewis and I one summer day met Sir Arthur Sullivan, 
the composer. We had met him often in London. 
When we saw him this day he had arrived from Aus- 
tralia; in fact he was just off the boat. He greeted us 
most effusively, for he had been living for some months 
in a country where he knew no one. He introduced us 
to the man who was with him, the captain of the 
steamer that had brought him to California. 

Then, after a few minutes' conversation, he again 
shook hands warmly and said : "We are going to have 
a drink. Good-by." 

I was amused, but Lewis was intensely annoyed at 
the casualness of Sullivan's remark. He said: "I 
wouldn't have accepted it, but he might have asked us." 

As a matter of fact, Lewis never did drink in the 

daytime. While I was laughing at Lewis' annoyance, 

we were joined by that great favorite of the road, Sol 

Smith Russell. His Ho sea Howe in Peaceful Valley 

154 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 155 

and his Noah Vale in The Poor Relation were only a 
little less well known than Jefferson's Rip. 

Russell was one of those long-looking persons, and 
he had an extraordinary manner of dressing. He al- 
ways wore a black frock coat and a little white string 
tie. He looked much like a minister, and he told me 
that when he was purchasing things in shops he was 
often offered the clerical discount. 

When he joined us that morning in San Francisco he 
was on his way to the dentist's. He urged me to go 
with him. As I had nothing to do I thought I would 
walk with him a while. We soon reached the place 
of his appointment, and he persuaded me to go in and 
wait for him. 

In the dentist's waiting room was an old lady who 
was apparently in great pain. She was bewailing her 
condition. She looked at Russell and, thinking to get 
some spiritual advice, said to him: "Are you a minis- 
ter?' 

Russell answered, paraphrasing from Macbeth: "I 
minister to minds diseased." 

"No," she said, "are you a real minister?" 

Russell answered : "No, madam, I am only a poor 
player." 

She then asked: "A piano player?" 

It was so absurd and I laughed so loudly that the 



156 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

old woman was much incensed. She seemed to think 
that a dentist's waiting room was no place to laugh. 
Russell had persuaded me to accompany him to sustain 
him morally, and spiritual advice was demanded from 
him! 

As the Daly Company toured the various cities of 
the country we were much entertained. Sometimes en- 
tertainment was thrust upon us when we thought we 
were in a town where no one knew us. 

Otis Skinner and I, on our way from the theatre to 
our hotel in one of the smaller cities of the Middle 
West, stepped into a small vaudeville theatre which 
kept open till midnight. We wanted to stand up at 
the rear of the theatre, but we were not allowed to do 
so. We were spotted at once and ushered by the man- 
agement to seats in the very front of the theatre. 

As we took our seats someone was clattering away 
on the stage with a noisy song and clog dance. We 
noticed that the door under the stage was opened and 
a man stuck his head out and handed something written 
on a paper to one of the musicians, who in turn handed 
it to the leader. 

The next act was a singer, known in the nineties as 
a motto singer. I remember nothing about him except 
that he pointed to Skinner and myself and sang a song 
about the poor actor in distress. I do not know this 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



GEORGIE DREW BARRYMORE WITH ETHEL, LIONEL, AND JACK 
BARRYMORE 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 157 

song, and I do not know whether it ever went the 
rounds of the popular theatres. When he reached the 
end he came and stood directly in front of Skinner 
and myself and sang words which ran something like 
this: 

Do all you can for the actor in distress ; 

Engage him before it's too late; 
For many a poor actor can give a good show, 

So give the poor actor a date. 

At the height of the fame of the Daly Company — 
and this was after we had produced many notable suc- 
cesses — we were booked as the opening attraction of 
a new theatre in Rockford, Illinois. The theatre was 
a very fine one, and the occasion an important one lo- 
cally. After the first performance, which was some- 
what delayed by speech making and special ceremonies, 
Jim Lewis arid I were sitting in the lobby of the hotel. 

A man kept walking up and down in front of us, 
and it seemed quite obvious that he wanted to talk. 
After running his fingers through his beard in the man- 
ner of a stage rustic, he cleared his throat and stopped 
short in front of us; "I seen you act tonight," he said. 

"I trust you were edified," said Lewis. 

The native laughed, as if appreciating a huge joke. 
"I dunno about that; I thought it was pretty good. 
You folks ought to stay here some time. I hear most 




158 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

of the reserved seats is bought up for tomorrow night." 
He dropped into the arm chair next to Lewis and con- 
tinued: "I talked to the manager of the theatre to- 
night, and we come to the conclusion that yours is the 
best trained troupe that has ever been here since 
Humpty-Dmky." 

It is needless to say that he referred to the ever popu- 
lar pantomime performance Humpty-Dumpty, which 
toured the country for years. 

Lewis groaned, and I thought things. This was 
praise indeed! The Daly Company was supposed to 
be the best in the country. We had been allowed to 
believe by the press and the public that we were the 
best exponents of light-comedy acting. Our acting 
was supposed to be most finished. We had been re- 
ceived in London as perhaps no foreign company ever 
has been. We had played in France and Germany. 
We had been made much of by many important people. 
Enthusiasts had compared our company with the 
Comedie Franchise. 

I do not believe that either Lewis or I heard any of 
the rest of the conversation of our newly acquired 
friend. 



>j 



CHAPTER NINETEEN 

DURING a lunch at Delmonico's early in the 
winter of 1888 the talk shifted occasionally 
from the subject we had met to discuss and Mark 
Twain told a story in his inimitable way. I do not 
remember what the story itself was but while we were 
all laughing, General Sherman said: "That story lost 
nothing in the telling, Clemens." 

"I didn't mean that it should," replied the teller of 
the story. 

Edwin Booth, Lawrence Hutton, A. M. Palmer, 
Harry Edwards, Stephen Olin, Thomas Bailey Aid- 
rich, Lawrence Barrett, Augustin Daly, William Bis- 
pham, Joseph F. Daly, Samuel Clemens, General 
Sherman, James Lewis and I were sitting round the 
table. 

The reason for gathering together these men repre- 
senting the professions was to discuss the founding of 
The Players. The idea to have a club where the per- 
sons of the several arts could meet had been discussed 
by Booth, Barrett, Hutton and others on Commodore 

Benedict's yacht, The Oneida. 

159 



160 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

After lunch a number of us went down to 16 Gram- 
ercy Park to look over the site which had been chosen 
for The Club. 

On New Year's Eve, 1888, The Players was for- 
mally opened. It was founded entirely through the 
generosity of Edwin Booth. He was the first Presi- 
dent and upon his death in 1893 Joseph Jefferson be- 
came the second. Upon the death of the latter the 
honor was conferred upon me, and ever since I have 
held the office so splendidly filled by those two great 
men of the profession. 

As to the ideal and the purpose of this splendid gift 
to the members of the acting profession, nothing can 
be better said than it is in those words that Edwin 
Booth used in his speech of dedication : 

Gentlemen : Although our vocations are vari- 
ous, I greet you all as brother Players. At this 
supreme moment of my life, it is my happy privi- 
lege to assume the character of host, to welcome 
you to the house wherein I hope that we for many 
years, and our legitimate successors for at least 
a thousand generations, may assemble for friendly 
intercourse and intellectual recreation. Espe- 
cially for the worthy ones of my profession am I 
desirous that this association shall be the means 
of bringing them, regardless of their theatrical 
rank, in communion with those who, ignorant of 
their personal qualities hidden by the mask and 
motley of our calling, know them as actors only. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 161 

Frequent intercourse with gentlemen of other arts 
and professions, who love the stage and appreci- 
ate the value of the drama as an aid to intellec- 
tual culture, must inspire the humblest player 
with a reverence for his vocation as one among 
the first of "fine arts" — which too many regard 
as merely a means to the gratification of vanity 
and selfishness. Such is the object of this club. 

For many years I have cherished the hope that 
I might be able to do something for my profession 
of a more lasting good than mere almsgiving, but 
could not determine what course to pursue. Our 
several benevolent institutions for the relief of 
poor and disabled actors (foremost among them 
the noble Forrest Home), great as their good work 
is, do not afford the social advantages so neces- 
sary for what is termed "the elevation of the 
stage." 

Not until after many conversations with nu- 
merous friends of the theatre on this subject, and 
while discussing it with Messrs. Barrett, Daly, 
and Palmer (a club of this character being sug- 
gested as the best means to the good end), did I 
resolve to act, to do my utmost in the furtherance 
of the scheme proposed. This is the first step 
toward the accomplishment of our purpose. To 
our treasurer, Mr. William Bispham, we owe the 
wise selection of our house, to Mr. Stanford White 
its admirable reconstruction and embellishment, 
while to the poet Aldrich we are indebted for the 
choice of our appropriate and comprehensive title, 
the world being but a stage where every man must 
"play his part." Mine just now, as the New Year 
dawns, is a very happy one, since it permits me to 



162 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

present to you by the hands of our vice-president, 
Mr. Daly, your title deeds to this property. 

Having done so, I am no longer your host — I 
resign the role with profound thanks for your 
prompt and generous cooperation in a cause so 
dear to me, so worthy of all well-wishers of the 
theatre and of the Player who "struts and frets 
his hour upon the stage." 

Let us drink from this loving-cup, bequeathed 
by William Warren of loved and honored mem- 
ory to our no less valued Jefferson, and by him 
presented to us — from this cup and this souvenir 
of long ago, my father's flagon, let us now, be- 
neath his portrait, and on the anniversaries of this 
occupation, drink: "To the Players' Perpetual 
Prosperity!" 



CHAPTER TWENTY 

I WAS still playing at Daly's theatre when I first 
met Charles Frohman. He then had the Twenty- 
third Street Theatre, now Proctor's, and had produced 
Bronson Howard's famous drama of the Civil War, 
Shenandoah, which had so much to do with the found- 
ing of his theatrical fortune. 

In the men's cafe at Delmonico's, then at Broadway 
and Twenty-sixth Street, I often saw a little round man 
who I thought was Alfred Klein, the brother of Charles 
Klein, the author of The Music Master and The Lion 
and the Mouse. Alfred Klein, was one of three bro- 
thers connected with the theatre. He played with 
Gillette in The "Professor, and some years afterwards 
he was the elephant trainer with DeWolf Hopper in 
Wang. 

Anson Pond, the writer of a play called Her Atone- 
ment, protested to me one day: "Why, that's not 
Klein. That is Charles Frohman, the coming theatrical 
manager." 

At that time I was not much interested in other the- 
atrical managers. Ada Rehan, Lewis and the rest of 

163 



164 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

us at Daly's felt that these newer managers were in- 
truders. Daly never thought what happened outside of 
his theatre was of any importance, and this spirit of 
his prejudiced us. 

One fine Sunday Fritz Williams and I rode out to 
Claremont. Seated at a table near us was Frank San- 
ger and the man I had mistaken for Alfred Klein. I 
had known Frank Sanger in Philadelphia. He had 
been one of the players, though not a conspicuous one, 
in the stock company at the Chestnut Street Theatre. 
He became night clerk in the Hotel La Pierre one sum- 
mer. Later he got into theatrical management and 
made a great deal of money out of Charles Hoyt's 
play, A Bunch of Keys. With Hayman he built the 
Empire Theatre for Charles Frohman. 

At this meeting at Claremont Sanger and Frohman 
joined us. Sanger turned the conversation, in a rather 
diplomatic fashion, to the possibilities of my changing 
managements. I do not mean to imply that this con- 
versation was exactly prearranged. 

Sanger said: "John is wedded to Daly as a 
manager." 

"I don't know about that," I answered. 

"You're not thinking of changing, are you 9" San- 
ger asked. 

"No," I told him; "but I'm not bound as a serf." 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



maude adams and john drew in henry guy carleton s play, 
"butterflies" 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 165 

One Sunday evening Henry Miller took me to Froh- 
man' s apartment in the Hoffman House to play cards. 
Miller and I met Frohman and Anson Pond, who was 
a great friend of his, in the lobby of the hotel. We 
played poker for a while, and I felt, as subsequent 
events developed, that I had been allowed to win and 
had not won through my own cleverness or prowess 
with the cards. I do not know whether I was right 
about this, but I do know that Frohman was a very 
good card player, as was Pond. We had a very elab- 
orate "terrapinish" supper and went back to card 
playing. 

Conversations with Sanger, which were usually pred- 
icated upon the supposition of what I would do if I 
left Daly, and occasional meetings with Frohman went 
on for some time. Finally an offer came through 
Frank Bennett, who was manager of the old Arlington 
Hotel in Washington. 

Frank Bennett, who was the son-in-law of my god- 
mother, Mrs. D. P. Bowers, had been an actor for a 
time in the Daly company, but he became discouraged 
and gave up the stage. Fortunately for him he had 
the keenness of perception, given to very few people 
who want to act, to realize that there was no future for 
him. On one of our trips with the Daly company to 
Washington he met Roselle, proprietor of the Arling- 



166 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

ton Hotel, who offered him a job. From this he rose 
to be manager. 

"Why don't you get out of your engagement with 
Daly, John?" Bennett asked me on one occasion. I 
suppose my manner seemed receptive to him, for he 
went on: "Frohman is the coming man." 

Frohman apparently had calculated that I had a 
drawing power, and in this he seems to have had faith, 
for a most generous offer was made to me by Bennett. 
I authorized him to make a suggestion or two to Froh- 
man and the thing was accomplished. 

At the time there was still more than a year of my 
contract with Daly to run. I told Daly at once that 
I was leaving him at the end of our arrangement. I 
felt that I was at liberty to go and that there was no 
moral obligation upon my part to stay with a manager 
with whom I had been for so many seasons. I felt 
this because Daly had before this rescinded the agree- 
ment that he had with Mrs. Gilbert, Miss Rehan, 
Lewis and myself. He had given us a share in the 
profits of the season apart from our salaries. It was 
a semi-proprietary arrangement similar to that enjoyed 
by the actors at the Comedie Franchise, that is, the 
Societaires who have all had certain years of service. 

Daly wrote us that "in view of certain contingencies" 
he had decided that it was inexpedient to continue this 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 167 

arrangement. He proposed that we take increased 
salaries in place of the percentage. A small increase 
in salary went into effect, but a season or two after- 
wards, when I asked Daly for more money, he declined 
to give it to me. 

Frohman offered me a salary much larger than Daly 
ever contemplated giving anyone connected with his 
theatre. Accordingly, I signed my first contract with 
Frohman. It was for three years; I never had another. 
We merely went on from year to year. During our 
whole professional business associations there was never 
a difference of any sort. I received a salary and at 
the end of the season a percentage of the year's receipts. 

Once, when I thought I should have a larger salary, 
I went to Charles Frohman and told him so. "Charles, 
I spoke to you several years ago about giving me more 
money, and you said at that time you couldn't afford 
to do so." 

"Oh, did I?" he said. And then he went on to tell 
me, making it appear just as if he had nothing to do 
with it and as if I were dealing with another firm, 
that I should go tell the treasurer who was in charge 
of the business office at that time that I was henceforth 
to get so much instead of what I had been getting. He 
made it appear that it was something that I had ne- 
glected. 



168 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

This business association I entered into with a good 
deal of uncertainty and some little dread. I did not 
know Frohman, and I had been long with Daly. I 
was accustomed to his management and his way of 
producing plays. 

I never had cause to regret my change in manage- 
ment. Charles Frohman was one of the fairest and 
squarest men I ever met. 

On July 30, 1892, 1 appeared for the last time under 
the management of Augustin Daly at Stockwell's Thea- 
tre in San Francisco. The play was a revival of A 
Night Off, and I played my customary role of Jack 
Mulberry. 

On October 3 of the same year I appeared as a star 
under the management of Charles Frohman at Palmer's 
Theatre, Broadway and Thirtieth Street. This had 
been Lester Wallack's Theatre, and after Palmer's 
management was renamed Wallack's. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 

MY early impression of Maude Adams, before it 
was finally decided that she was to be my 
leading woman in my first play as a star under the 
management of Charles Frohman, was that she looked 
too frail. I had been accustomed to play with Ada 
Rehan, who was so much bigger and stronger. 
Stronger she was, as was evidenced by the blow on the 
jaw that as Katherine she gave me in The Taming of 
the Shrew. In the scene, in the acting version, where 
Petruchio says : 

Were it the forefoot of an angry bear, 

I'd shake it off; but, as it's Kate's, I kiss it, 

Katherine gives him a sound, ringing blow. There 
was a time when it was not considered good art actu- 
ally to hit a person on the stage instead of making as 
if to hit; but there was no make-believe about this 
stage blow. It was indeed real ; in fact, it seems to me 
now as I look back that the blow that Katherine used 
to give Petruchio might have given the redoubtable 

Dempsey a jolt. 

169 



170 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Small wonder then that Maude Adams in her girlish 
slightness seemed to me too fragile for a leading 
woman. As a matter of fact she was never ill and 
never away from rehearsals in the years she played 
with me. 

It was Mrs. Drew, my wife, who first suggested that 
Maude Adams become my leading woman. Maude 
Adams had been on the stage almost from childhood. 
Her mother was leading woman in the stock company 
at the Salt Lake Theatre. The family name was Kis- 
kadden. Maude, herself, had appeared when quite 
young in Hoyt's play, A Midnight Bell. After that 
she left the stage to go to school. 

As Nell, the consumptive factory girl, in an Ameri- 
can adaptation of Ludwig Fulda's play, The Lost Para- 
dise, she had made a hit. I saw her first, however, as 
Evangeline Bender in a farce which William Gillette 
had adapted from the French, called All the Comforts 
of Home. In this Forbes Robertson's brother, Ian, 
played an old, deaf fellow. The two things that I 
remember about the play are: the delicate charm of 
Maude Adams and the fact that all the other characters 
yelled at Ian Robertson. 

When I was in San Francisco Maude Adams, who 
was playing at another theatre, came to the Baldwin 




Photo, by Byron. 

ELSIE DE WOLFE AS THE WAITING MAID, JOHN DREW AS THE COUNT, IN 
"A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE" 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 
ARTHUR BYRON AND JOHN DREW IN "THE TYRANNY OF TEARS' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



171 



Hotel to meet me. This appointment was the first 
time that I had seen her off the stage. I saw at once 
her alertness and her intelligence, and that she had a 
most expressive face. 

The play selected for my first appearance under the 
new management was The Masked Ball by Alexandre 
Bisson and Albert Carre. This play took its name from 
the celebrated carnival, Veglione, which is held at Nice 
during the winter. The adaptation was made by young 
Clyde Fitch, whose play, Beau Brummel, had made so 
great an impression when played by Richard Mansfield. 
The cast was: 



Paul Blondet 
Joseph Poulard 
Louis Martinot 
M. Bergomat 
Casimir 

Suzanne Blondet 
Mme. Poulard 
Mme. Bergomat 
Rose 



John Drew 
Harry Harwood 
Harold Russell 
C. Leslie Allen 
Frank E. Lamb 
Maude Adams 
Virginia Buchanan 
Annie Adams 
Lillian Florence 



When I left Daly I assured him that, if ever the 
opportunity arose, I should be happy to make public 
acknowledgement of all that I felt that I owed him. 
It seemed to me that it was the only decent thing to 
do — to pay some tribute to the man who had taken so 



172 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

much trouble for so many years. Accordingly, on the 
first night of The Masked Ball, when I was called be- 
fore the curtain, I said : 

It is trite and hackneyed, perhaps, to allude to 
a particular time as the proudest and happiest 
moment in one's life, but if ever phrase were apt 
for an occasion, I feel that particular one is be- 
fitting this moment. This splendid welcome ac- 
corded to me by you — kind friends rather than 
spectators or auditors, who have with your plau- 
dits and consideration encouraged me for so many 
years in the past — makes this, indeed, a proud and 
happy moment for me. 

But I feel that all these plaudits and this great 
greeting might not have been for me, had it not 
been for one who taught me how to merit and de- 
serve them, who from the beginning of my career 
has watched and guided my steps, smoothing the 
way to success for me, and encouraging me in 
moments of trial and discouragement, and, in 
fine, striving to make me worthy of this honor 
tonight. 

I feel, too, that this poor and halting tribute 
of the heart is little to offer after the years of 
care and trouble he has bestowed on me, but it is 
from the heart that I wish to offer it. I am glad, 
too, to offer it before you — his friends as well as 
mine. I see that I need not name him, my friend 
and preceptor, Mr. Augustin Daly. 

Eugene Presbrey, who was the first husband of An- 
nie Russell, directed the production of The Masked 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 173 

Ball. Frohman came to rehearsals himself, and he did 
a good deal of the directing. Often he made sugges- 
tions, and good ones, but he never assumed the job of 
general stage director or producer. 

The Masked Ball was a great success, and we played 
it two seasons. It was a conventional farce, but it gave 
me, in the role of Paul Blondet^ a fairly good oppor- 
tunity. Maude Adams made a decided impression. 
In one scene in which she simulated tipsiness she was 
particularly adroit. 

Suzanne had been engaged to Louis Martinot^ a 
friend of Paul Blondefs. Paul tells Louis not to 
marry Suzanne because she drinks. He tells him this 
because he wants to marry the girl himself. He does 
so. Later the friend comes back from Japan and finds 
the girl he loved married to the man who warned him. 
Blond et is desperate and wants to get rid of Martinot. 
He does not want Suzanne to see him. He tries every 
inducement to get him out of the house, but Martinot 
only sinks deeper in his chair and insists upon waiting 
to see Mrs. Blondet. 

"You must see our Rubens. We have a splendid 
collection of Rubens," Blondet tells him, trying to get 
him out of the room. 

But Martinot is obdurate. "No, no ! Rubens bores 



me. 



174 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

The actor who played this part insisted upon saying, 
"No, no! Rubens bore me." 

I said, thinking it was a slip of the tongue : "Why 
do you say that?" 

He said: "Why not?" 

Then I gathered he thought I meant by Rubens — 
country jays. 

Finally, Martinot does see Suzanne. 

"Did he say that I got tipsy?" she asks. 

"Yes, he told me so; that's the reason I broke off 
the engagement." 

Accordingly, at the end of the second act, she feigns 
tipsiness in order to shock the husband with whom she 
is really in love. It was admirably done, deliciously 
done. There was nothing vulgar about the scene ; for, 
in the first place, she was not supposed to be intoxi- 
cated. Maude Adams did the whole episode daintily 
and with much charm. She carried a red rose which 
she would alternately smell and wave about. This was 
her own idea, and it was carried out very prettily. 

The part of Suzanne established Maude Adams. She 
scored a greater success in my company as Dorothy in 
Rosemary, but after her performance in The Masked 
Ball there was no doubt of her ability and charm. 

Before the Empire Theatre was built, the Frohman 
offices were at 1 127 Broadway. I went there one day 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

MAUDE ADAMS AND JOHN DREW IN "ROSEMARY' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 175 

to see Frohman and was told by the office boy: "Mr. 
Frohman is out, and I don't know when he will be 
back." 

"But I have an engagement with him," I protested. 

"You will have to wait," said the boy. 

I waited in the outer office, while Frohman waited 
for me inside. 

Later, this same boy, whose name was Peter Daly, 
came to me at the suggestion of Charles Frohman as a 
dresser. He spent the day typewriting in the outer 
room of the Frohman offices and at night came to the 
theatre to dress me until I got a regular valet. 

I was much surprised, some time after he left me, to 
learn that he was in a play and that his name was 
Arnold Daly. Of course he could not keep his own 
name, because Peter Dailey, later one of the popular 
players at Weber and Fields' Theatre, was then a well- 
known comedian playing in The Country Sport with 
May Irwin. 

During the run of The Masked Ball I lived at the 
Marlborough Hotel, and in the side street Saint-Gau- 
dens had a studio. I often went over and watched 
him work on the Sherman statue, which is now in the 
plaza at Fifty-ninth Street, New York. The model 
for the horse was the race horse Ontario. 

When we played The Masked Ball in Washington, 



176 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

the house was sold out in advance for the first night at 
the National Theatre. At the last minute the Presi- 
dent and Mrs. Cleveland decided to attend the per- 
formance and Mrs. Rapley, the wife of the manager 
of the theatre, gave up the manager's box. Grover 
Cleveland was one of the early members of The Play- 
ers and I often saw him there in the nineties. 

During this same Washington engagement I re- 
ceived a letter from Frederick Febvre, doyen of the 
Comedie Francaise: 

Thanks to you and your excellent artists. We 
passed a charming evening yesterday at The Na- 
tional Theatre. The piece is extremely light, but 
the details are very amusing. There is team play 
and accord in your company, and everyone plays 
for the whole and not for himself. 

My sincere compliments to the stage director. 
The scene of the flowers in the second act, the 
scene of the four young people, is graceful and 
ingenious. It is exquisite. 

As for you, dear Mr. Drew, I cannot tell you 
how much pleasure was given me by your skillful 
playing — correct, amusing without ever becom- 
ing exaggerated, in fact, quite Parisian. Re- 
ceive all our thanks for your courtesy, my most 
sincere felicitations and a cordial handshake. 

Febvre, who was on a sort of vacation or leave from 
the Comedie Franchise, was giving very charming little 
sketches or colloquies, with his wife at private enter- 
tainments. I saw them two afternoons in Washington. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 

THE second play in which I appeared as a star 
was Butterflies by Henry Guy Carle ton, who 
was the first editor of Life. In this I played Frederick 
Ossian, a heedless young man who is much in love and 
much in debt. Finally Frederick tries the expedient 
of going to work, and his love is rewarded. In this 
play, which was also produced at Palmer's Theatre, 
Maude Adams as Miriam made another hit and Olive 
May as Suzanne-Elise scored greatly. Suzanne was a 
broad-comedy part, one of the first of the modern 
slangy young girls and a contrast to the heroine, the 
delicate Miriam. Carleton's play was as great a suc- 
cess as The Masked Ball, and we played it for many 
months. 

The cast was : 

Frederick Ossian John Drew 

Andrew Strong Lewis Baker 

Hiram Green Harry Harwood 

Barrington Arthur Byron 

Nathaniel Bilser Leslie Allen 

Coddle Frank E. Lamb 
177 



178 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Mrs. Ossian Annie Adams 

Suzanne-Elise Olive May 
Mrs. Beverly 

Stuart-Dodge Kate Meek 

Miriam Maude Adams 



The year after the World's Fair we were going to 
California with Butterflies. When we got near Chi- 
cago there was a great glare in the sky and we were 
told that the World's Fair buildings were burning. 

At Hammond, which is some miles out of Chicago, 
we were compelled to get out of our Pullman, as there 
was a strike at the Pullman works. There was a sym- 
pathetic strike of the people working on the various 
roads, and Pullman cars were not allowed to go into 
Chicago. 

We rode into Chicago by trolley. We were going 
straight to the Coast and not playing Chicago this trip. 
After we got off the trolley we had to take an elevated 
to get us to a place where we could get carriages to get 
across to the Northwestern station. 

In getting on the elevated Maude Adams and the 
women of the company were nearly crushed to death. 
Great throngs of people were going to the fire and tak- 
ing the trains right back again. The congestion was 
shocking. We were so much delayed that we missed 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

MAUDE ADAMS, ARTHUR BYRON, AND JOHN DREW IN "ROSEMARY' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 179 

our train and had to stay over a whole day until the 
same time next night. 

The strikers were beginning to riot, and troops were 
brought down from Fort Sheridan and camped out on 
the Lake Front. I knew some of the officers and spent 
most of the day at this temporary camp. On our way 
West we were held up at different places by the strik- 
ing people and those who sympathized with them, but 
they did not take our Pullman car off. We had to 
stop at night wherever we were, usually at some sta- 
tion we were passing through. It was very hot and we 
arrived at San Francisco two days late. 

A familiar figure round the New York theatres in 
those days of the middle nineties was Charles Hoyt, 
the writer of many successful farces. The titles of 
these invariably began with the article "A" — A Tem- 
perance Town, A Midnight Bell, A Contented Woman, 
A Stranger in New York. Hoyt was a most amusing 
person. He came from New Hampshire, and he had 
an uncompromising Yankee accent. When he died 
he gave his place in New Hampshire to the Lambs 
Club in perpetuity, so that actors who had no place 
else to go might go there to stay. 

One of the often-told stories about him was that on 
the first night that Goodwin was going to play Clyde 



180 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Fitch's Nathan Hale, Hoyt had tickets for it, and there 
landed in on him some friend from New Hampshire. 
He had to entertain the man in some fashion, and he 
said he had two tickets for the theatre. 

The other man said : "What is it?" 

Hoyt told him: "It is the opening of a new play, 
Nathan Hale, with Nat Goodwin." 

The New Hampshire friend said : "I don't want to 
see Goodwin. I don't like him." 

"You don't?" Hoyt asked. 

"No, I don't. I don't like him. I don't like him as 
a man; I don't like him as an actor. I don't like him." 

"But," Hoyt said, "you will like him in this play." 

The other fellow said: "I won't like him." 

Hoyt said : "Yes, you will ; they hang him in the 
last act." 

Nat Goodwin whose personality was perhaps not 
genial to everyone was one of the finest of American 
comedians. He was a great mimic and his imitations 
of Jefferson and J. H. Stoddart were most extraordin- 
ary. He even looked like Jefferson and Stoddart. 

Goodwin got his start as the hind legs of the heifer 
in the famous production of Evangeline in Boston, 
where his father had been a gambler. Some years 
afterwards Nat came back to Boston — he had made 
considerable of an impression as an actor and an imi- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 181 

tator in the meantime — and a dinner was given him by 
some club. 

In reply to a toast he said he was so glad to receive 
this kindness from the citizens of the town "where he 
had dwelt and his father had dealt so long." 

It was Nat's idea of humor without any restriction ; 
he could not help saying that, and he would not conceal 
the fact that his father had been a gambler. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 

THE Empire Theatre which was so closely asso- 
ciated with the career of Charles Frohman and 
so important in my own career, as for so many years 
my season began there either on Labor Day or very 
close to that time, had been opened in January of 

1893. 

The opening play was The Girl I Left Behind Me 
by Franklin Fyles and David Belasco. This was just 
another version of Boucicault's play, Jessie Brown, or 
The Relief of Luc know, with something of the good 
old classic, Virginius. The performance was given by 
the Empire Theatre stock company, and in the first 
cast were W. H. Thompson, William Morris, Orrin 
Johnson, Cyril Scott, Theodore Roberts, Sydney Arm- 
strong, Odette Tyler and Katharine Florence. 

After my own performance in The Masked Ball at 
the Standard Theatre at Thirty-third Street and Broad- 
way, where we had moved when our time was up at 
Palmer's, I went up to the Empire to see the last few 
minutes of Charles Frohman's new production, The 

Girl I Left Behind Me, in the new theatre. 

182 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 183 

About two years after the opening I played at the 
Empire for the first time in Henry Arthur Jones' play, 
The Bauble Shop. The argument in this, and it seems 
quite unanswerable, was that the private immoralities 
of a statesman's life may be used by his enemies to 
defeat and humiliate him in public life. The play was 
more successful in New York than London. 

I was Viscount Clivebrooke, the leader of the party 
in power, a cynical, brilliant statesman of forty-odd 
years, who indiscreetly falls in love with the daughter 
of a tippling toy-maker. J. E. Dodson played the toy- 
maker. 

In all these early productions Frank E. Lamb was 
my stage manager. He had appeared with W. J. 
Florence in The Mighty Dollar. He was a son of 
Ed Lamb, who played for a long time in a stock com- 
pany in Brooklyn, run by Mrs. F. B. Conway, who was 
the sister of Mrs. D. P. Bowers, my god-mother. In 
some of the early Daly plays Ed Lamb had played the 
low-comedy roles on tour — the parts which James 
Lewis played in the original company. 

Between The Bauble Shop and Rosemary, Maude 
Adams and I appeared in a number of plays. There 
was That Imprudent Young Couple, which had been 
tried out at the end of the season before. In this Henry 
Guy Carleton tried to repeat the gossamer success of 



184 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Butterflies, but failed. Then came Christopher Jr., a 

bright but not altogether logical play by Madeline 

Lucette Ryley in which the players were : 

Christopher Colt, Jr. John Drew 
Christopher Colt, Sr. Harry Harwood 
Bert Bellaby Lewis Baker 

Hedway C. Leslie Allen 

Simpson Arthur Byron 

Glibb Herbert Ayling 

Job Joseph Humphreys 

Whimper Frank Lamb 

Mrs. Glibb Elsie De Wolfe 

Mrs. Colt Anna Belmont 

Dora Maude Adams 

We did an English version of UAmi des Femmes by 
Dumas Fils. The adaptation was called The Squire 
of Dames and was made by R. C. Carton, the author of 
Lord and Lady Algy, Lady HuntwortK s Experiment 
and many other successful plays. 




Photo, by Byron. 

MAUDE ADAMS AND JOHN DREW IN MADELINE LUCETTE RYLEY's COMEDY 

"CHRISTOPHER, JR." 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 

THE summer I was rehearsing Rosemary we were 
all living at Westhampton, Long Island — the 
James Lewises, my wife, mother and daughter, the 
three Barrymore children, and Henry Miller and his 
family. 

One day, after a rehearsal of Rosemary^ I was in a 
court of the Racquet Club when I was told that I was 
wanted on the telephone. I asked that the message be 
taken, but the servant came back to tell me that the 
person calling would not give the message. I put on 
a bathrobe and went to the telephone. 

It was Henry Miller who was calling from West- 
hampton. He told me that James Lewis had had 
some trouble with his heart. 

I asked: "Why don't you get a doctor?" 

He answered, trying to break it to me gently: 
"There is no need for a doctor.' ' 

I didn't quite understand him. "What do you 
mean?" 

He said: "There's nothing the matter with his 

heart now." 

185 



186 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

James Lewis had been my friend for twenty-odd 
years, ever since those old days at the Fifth Avenue 
Theatre when I first came to New York to play under 
Daly's management. 

Much saddened I went on with the rehearsals of 
Rosemary. This play by Louis N. Parker and Murray 
Carson was one of the greatest successes I had. Only 
a few years ago I revived the play, and it was successful 
then. 

In the first production Maude Adams made a tre- 
mendous hit as Dorothy. This role, which was the last 
she played with me, was the culminating thing in her 
early career, and it led to her being starred. The next 
season Frohman produced The Little Minister^ with 
Maude Adams as Lady Babbie. 

Charles Frohman probably thought that it was a 
great waste to leave in my company as leading woman 
an actress who had made so great a hit on her own 
account. Such delicate, almost spiritual, charm could 
be turned to great advantage in the proper plays. 

The play Rosemary is not an extraordinary piece, 
but it does contain a great deal of proper sentiment, 
feeling and sympathy. It is gay and pretty, but not 
without depth. 

Sir Jasper Thorndyke lives in his country place with 
only an old friend for a companion. A chaise contain- 



EMPIRE THEATRE 



CHARLES FROHMAN. RICH A HARRIS, 
CHARLES FROHMAN. Mamaac*, 
11m Naauaraf Ihf (i.rrick e.tH <.»r.fra TkMtfM. 

"WEEK COMMENCING MONDAY, SEPTEMBER! 4. V896? 

Bvrnlns" «» 8.10. .ilatlnre Saturday only. 

Wrduoday nail urn for the Season will be reauiiird September 91. 



Under the irjanacemeitt of CHARLES FMOHTIAN, 

Presenting, for the first time In this country, a play, in four acts, entitled* 



FIFTH SEASON OF THIS THEATRE. 
AND FIFTH SEASON OF 

MR. JOHN DREW, 

'r ib« irjanacemeitt of CHARLES PHOH 
the first time In this country, a play, In I 

ROSEMARY. 

"That 'I for remembrance." 

By LOUIS N. PARKER and MURRAY CARSON. 

SIR JASPER THORNDYKE JOHN DREW 

PROFESSOR JOGRAM DANIEL HARKINS 

CAPTAIN CRUICKSHANK. R. N HARRY HARWOOD 

WILLIAM WESTWOOD ARTHUR BYRON 

GEORGE MINIFIE JOSEPH HUMPHREYS 

ABRAHAM FRANK LAMB 

MRS. CRUICKSHANK. Mrs. ANNIE ADAMS 

MRS. MINIFIE Mrs. KING 

PRISCILLA ETHEL BARRYMORE 

DOROTHY CRUICKSHANK ...MAUDE ADAMS 



ACT I.-HIGH-ROAD. EXTERIOR OF SIR JASPER THORNDYKES PARK. 
Sir Jasper makes a mistake. 

ACT II.— DINING-ROOM AT INGLE HALL 

Sir Jasper makes amends. 

ACT III.-UPPER ROOM IN MRS. MINIFIES COFFEEHOUSE. IN LONDON. 

Sir .'aspcr forgets. 

ACT IV.-SAME ROOM AS ACT III.. BUT FIFTY YEARS HAVE ELAPSED. 

Sir Jasper remembers. 

Costumes by Dazian. Gowns by Helen Windsor. 

Scenery by E. G. Unitt. 

Incidental Music by W. W. Furst. 

Stage direction of Joseph Humphreys. 

BBPIIIB THEATRE ORCHESTRA. 

_ WM FURST. Musical Ditacroa, 

Owtare-" Hajari Care" Mcadetssota 

Paraphrase-" How Fair Art Thou": Mcaradba 



Watts-" Lea Patineara" ft. 

Ga»OM«->•L•Iafeo•e• ...... Ardrtl 

From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

DOROTHY WAS THE LAST PART MAUDE ADAMS PLAYED AS LEADING 
WOMAN WITH JOHN DREW 

187 



188 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

ing a runaway couple breaks down directly outside of 
the place of Sir Jasper, and he takes the youthful 
lovers into his house. He falls in love with the girl, 
Dorothy. Professor Jogram, his friend, tries to show 
him the folly of his falling in love with someone so 
much younger than himself. Jasper sees her happily 
married to the young lover, Ensign Westford, and he 
returns to his bachelor ways. He outlives them both 
and at the Diamond Jubilee he finds in the very house 
where he had taken Dorothy to see the Coronation, a 
souvenir of his romance. In this last act, which is 
really a monologue, Sir Jasper, who is on the verge of 
senility, reminisces at length. 

My niece, Ethel Barrymore, was cast for the rustic 
maid, Priscilla, in Rosemary. She had a dress and 
shoes which might have made another young girl seem 
grotesque. However, in spite of this most unbecoming 
attire, her beauty made a great impression. Priscilla, 
the maid, was really her first appearance in New York, 
though she had substituted in my company in The 
Bauble Shop. One night when Elsie De Wolfe was ill, 
Ethel Barrymore appeared as Kate Fennell, though she 
was not announced on the program. 

When Rosemary had run a hundred nights, a silver 
cup was given as a souvenir ; this custom has long since 
been done away with. The cup bore the name of the 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 

MRS. JOHN DREW, SENIOR, AS MRS. MALAPROP IN "THE RIVALS' 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 189 

play, the occasion and the quotation: "That's for re- 
membrance." I never thought of these cups again until 
a few years ago, when I was playing the revival of 
Rosemary in San Francisco. The property man of the 
Columbia Theatre told me that there was a woman 
who had one of these cups which she found under some 
debris near the site of the Baldwin Hotel just after 
the fire. I told the property man that I would like to 
have the cup, if the owner would part with it. He 
secured it for me. It looks more like pewter than silver 
today, and there is a hole punched through the bottom 
of it. 

In the late nineties I saw my mother act for the last 
time, in Chicago. This was in an all-star cast of The 
Rivals. She played her familiar character of Mrs. 
Malaprop. William H. Crane was Sir Anthony; 
Robert Taber, Captain Absolute; Joseph Jefferson, 
Bob Acres; Nat Goodwin, Sir Lucius; Joseph Holland, 
Faukland; Edward Holland, Fag; Francis Wilson, 
David; Julia Marlowe, Lydia Languish; and Fanny 
Rice, Lucy. This cast made a celebrated' and quick 
tour through the important Eastern cities, playing in 
about twenty-seven different towns in less than a 
month. 

I was playing Rosemary in another theatre in Chi- 
cago and on Sunday night between the Chicago and 



igo MY YEARS ON -THE STAGE 

Milwaukee engagements of The Rivals I gave a dinner 
for the cast at The Annex. Ethel Barrymore, who was 
in my company at the time, was present at the dinner. 
Jefferson and my mother, who had seen so much of the 
early days of the American theatre, told a great many 
stories of the old days. 

The following year I was playing in Salt Lake City 
in the road tour of Rosemary, when I received word 
that my mother had died at Larchmont. 

At the time, Ethel Barrymore was playing with 
Henry Irving in London. They were rehearsing a new 
play. She returned to the afternoon rehearsal late, and 
she told Irving that she had been to send a cable ; her 
grandmother was dead. 

Irving excused her from rehearsal. "Mrs. John 
Drew," he said, "was the finest actress in her line that 
I have ever seen." 

After the road tour of Rosemary, Isabel Irving 
played Dorothy part of the time. I appeared at the 
Empire Theatre in A Marriage of Convenience, 
adapted by Sydney Grundy from Un Mariage sous 
Louis XV. I played the part of the count who falls in 
love with his young wife less than three days after the 
wedding. Isabel Irving made her first appearance as 
my leading lady in New York as the young countess. 
Of course, I had played with her often before at Daly's, 






MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 191 

and she had played the leading part opposite me in 
The Cabinet Minister, when Ada Rehan refused to 
play it. Elsie DeWolfe played the waiting maid in 
A Marriage of Convenience. 

When the Spanish-American War broke out, I very 
much wanted to go, and I applied in person to Theo- 
dore Roosevelt, who was then organizing a regiment 
of cavalry. I had known him when he was police com- 
missioner in New York. I met him at lunch one day 
at Delmonico's with Richard Harding Davis; when I 
joined them they were having a heated but friendly 
argument about something or other. I don't remember 
what it was about, but they were both much excited. 

The day I saw Roosevelt at the war department in 
Washington he told me that both Henry Cabot Lodge 
and I were too old to think of going to war, that we 
knew nothing of warfare and that I had a wife and 
child to support. I had not the moral courage to point 
out to him that he had four or five children. 

Then came One Summer's Day by Henry V. 
Esmond, which was not a great success and was fol- 
lowed by one of my biggest successes, Henry Arthur 
Jones' play, The Liars. In this sparkling comedy I 
played Sir Christopher Deering, the friend of every- 
body and the preserver of family honor. 

In the last act Sir Christopher, who has been devot- 



192 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

ing his time and ingenuity for four days and four acts 
to the seemingly futile attempt to prevent the elope- 
ment of his closest friend with the silly young wife of 
a common acquaintance, confronts them in his apart- 
ment. The hour is late, and Sir Christopher is getting 
ready to start for Africa to rejoin his regiment, the next 
day. Moreover, he has just asked a charming young 
woman to be his wife. He has little time to spare, but 
in a long speech which is very effective he sets facts 
before these two, the heedless man and the vain woman, 
and convinces them of their folly. 

On the first night of The Liars the curtain failed to 
come down after the first act. The stage manager said 
that he had given both the warning bell, which means 
to get ready, and the second bell, which is the signal 
to ring down. The flyman in charge of the curtain 
said he heard only the one signal, so did not ring down. 
This spoiled the first act. 

In the second act a hand organ is supposed to be 
played outside, so that the heroine can get rid of the 
young man by sending him out to give some money to 
the monkey. When the cue came there was no music 
from the hand organ. The property man, wishing to 
prevent the possibility of any tampering with the hand 
organ, had removed the handle, and then in his first- 




Photo, by Byron. 



john drew and frank lamb in henry arthur jones* comedy, 

"the liars" 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 193 

night excitement he forgot to come back to turn the 
handle. 

Isabel Irving, who was playing Lady Jessica, was 
at a loss for a few seconds but quickly sent Arthur 
Byron, the young man, for a glass of water. Notwith- 
standing these two accidents, the play was a great suc- 
cess that first night and for months to come. 

The cast was : 

Christopher Deering John Drew 

Edward Falkner Arthur Byron 

Gilbert Nepean D. H. Harkins 

George Nepean Orrin Johnson 

Freddie Tatton Lewis Baker 

Archibald Coke Harry Harwood 

Mrs. Crespin Marie Derickson 

Beatrice Ebernoe Blanche Burton 

Dolly Cooke Elizabeth Tyree 

Ferris Clara Hunter 

Lady Rosamond Tatton Annie Irish 

Lady Jessica Nepean Isabel Irving 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 

AFTER I left the Daly company I saw my old 
manager now and again. In the middle nineties 
his former program of light comedies and revivals of 
the old comedies had become less popular, and he was 
forced to make concessions to the popular taste. One 
of his last successes was an English melodrama, The 
Great Ruby. 

The last time that I saw Augustin Daly was at the 
Continental Hotel in Paris. Ada Rehan was stopping 
with the Dalys. My card was sent up and, in the very 
casual manner of French hotels, was left at the Daly 
apartment. Daly came down ; he was very cordial and 
nice. I had just come from Lake Como, and I told 
Daly that I had been to Cadenabbia, which is supposed 
to be the place which Claude Melnotte in The Lady 
of Lyons describes to Pauline in the speech that begins : 

"Nay, dearest, nay, if thou wouldst have me paint the 
home." 

"I suppose you felt like playing the character 4 ?" 

asked Daly. 

"I'm afraid, Governor, that that's about the only 

194 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 195 

place where I'd ever be allowed to play Claude Mel' 
notte" 

A year or so later I was in Dresden, waiting for my 
daughter's school to close before the summer vacation, 
and we got the news that Augustin Daly had died in 
Paris. 

When the Daly company disbanded Mrs. Gilbert 
came under the management of Charles Frohman and 
appeared with Annie Russell in Jerome K. Jerome's 
Miss Hobbs and Captain Marshall's play, The Royal 
Family. Then Charles Frohman decided to star her, 
and Clyde Fitch was commissioned to write a play for 
her called Granny. 

This was produced with Marie Doro in the support- 
ing cast at the Lyceum Theatre. At the end of the 
play Mrs. Gilbert recited an epilogue which referred 
to the old Daly days and to Ada Rehan, James Lewis 
and myself. This might have been pleasant and proper 
on the first night, but it seemed rather strange to con- 
tinue it through the run of the piece. 

As the midweek matinee at the Lyceum did not con- 
flict with my own, I was able to see Granny ', and after 
the performance I saw Mrs. Gilbert in her dressing 
room. Nearly thirty years before we had played to- 
gether for the first time at the Fifth Avenue Theatre. 

At a supper party Augustin Daly gave one year for 



196 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Henry Irving and Ellen Terry at Delmonico's I kissed 
Mrs. Gilbert's hand as I entered. She was not in the 
bill we were then playing at the theatre, and I had 
not seen her for some time. 

Irving, probably thinking that it was rather a formal 
greeting for people who saw each other every day, said : 
"You don't always do that, do you*?" 

"No, I usually do this." And I kissed her on the 
cheek. 

This delightful old lady had been "grandma" to us 
all and had been on the stage many years. During the 
run of Granny she died. 

After Augustin Daly died, Ada Rehan played in 
Paul Kester's play, Sweet Nell of Old Drury, and with 
Otis Skinner in revivals of some of the old Daly suc- 
cesses. I did not see her in any of these productions. 

The last time I saw her was at her house in Ninety- 
third Street. She was ill then and had aged a great 
deal in appearance; but I do not believe either of us 
thought that it was our last meeting. Our conversation 
was more reminiscent than it had been before. We 
talked of those youthful days at the Arch Street 
Theatre and the very early Daly days. 

Ada Rehan had a fine mind ; she was a great actress 
and she had a sweet soul. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 

THE season of 1899 and 1900 I played that de- 
lightful comedy, The Tyranny of Tears, by C. 
Haddon Chambers. This was one of the finest light 
comedies that I played. I revived it a few years ago, 
and it was equally successful then. When it was re- 
vived Chambers came over and made certain changes 
in the play to shorten it somewhat. There were certain 
scenes that were really unnecessary. In the last act 
some of the dialogue between the girl secretary and 
Parbury's friend were cut out. This did not disturb 
the play or the continuity of the action. It was done 
so that I might play the same evening Barrie's play, 
The Will. This bill was one of the most attractive 
that I ever played. 

The role of Parbury, the novelist, in The Tyranny 
of Tears was a most grateful one. Isabel Irving was 
very good as the wife, and Ida Conquest made a great 
hit as Hyacinth Woodward, the novelist's amanuensis. 
In the revival Laura Hope Crewes was the wife and 

Mary Boland the secretary. 

197 



198 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

The original cast was : 

Parbury John Drew 

George Gunning Arthur Byron 

Armitage Harry Harwood 

Evans Frank Lamb 

Hyacinth Ida Conquest 

Mrs. Parbury Isabel Irving 

The next year I left light comedy for dramatized 
fiction. As Frohman did not have a play for me, I 
played Richard Carvel, a dramatization of Winston 
Churchill's book by E. E. Rose. 

"C. F." asked me to come up to his farm, Hidden 
Brook Farm at Mount Kisco. He read me the drama- 
tization. "What do you think of that?" he asked. 

I didn't know; nor did I know at that time that the 
play had been written with James K. Hackett in mind. 
Charles Frohman had bribed or cajoled his brother 
Dan into giving this thing up to him for me. Hackett 
would have been ideal for the character. I was never 
happy in it. It was out of my sphere, and I was too 
old for the young hero. 

The surprising thing of my tour in this piece is that 
it made a good deal of money. I suppose this was due 
to the popularity of the book, for the play was not a 
very good one. 

The cast for this dramatization was: 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 199 

Richard Carvel John Drew 

Lionel Carvel Herbert Carr 

Lord Comyn Arthur Byron 

Duke of Chartersea Frank Losee 

Marmaduke Manners Harry Harwood 

Grafton Carvel Lewis Baker 

Captain Lewis Dodson Mitchell 

Horace Walpole Francis Powers 

Charles Fox Brandon Tynan 

Dorothy Manners Ida Conquest 

Patty Swain Olive May 

Mrs. Manners Mrs. W. G. Jones 



At supper one night in Chicago Sarah Bernhardt 
asked me whether I would like to come to Paris and 
act in a play that she was thinking of doing. Sarah 
Bernhardt' s companion, a little woman, who not only 
was her companion, but played parts in the company, 
and a man from the French paper, Figaro, were also 
present, and the conversation was carried on in French. 

I was very diffident about my French — that is, the 
thought of going to Paris to play in French made me 
feel diffident. "But my French is not good enough," 
I said in answer to her query. 

She said : "You speak French very well." 

"Yes, that's all right — the fluency of it perhaps, 
but not the accent." 

"Oh, that won't matter. This is an Englishman 
you are going to play." 



200 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Apparently Madame Bernhardt had not a very high 
regard for the English fashion of speaking French. 

My niece, Ethel Barrymore, played a few parts in 
my company, played with Irving in his familiar reper- 
toire in London and played Jessie Milward's part in a 
road company of Captain Marshall's play His Excel- 
lency, the Governor. Then Charles Frohman decided 
to star her in Clyde Fitch's play, Captain Jinks. This 
play of New York life just after the Civil War, with 
costumes inspired by Godey's Ladies Book and scenes 
in the Brevoort House, made a great impression when 
it was produced in New York. 

Before it came to the Garrick Theatre, it was tried 
out at the Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia, the 
oldest theatre in the country. Twenty years ago at 
the Walnut there was an old-fashioned, regular gal- 
lery audience, keen to approve of what it liked and 
quick to voice its disapproval. My niece, playing for 
the first time a long and important role, was somewhat 
nervous and not quite audible. 

A friendly voice called to her from the gallery: 
' 'Speak up, Ethel. You're all right. The Drews is 
all good actors." 




From Theatre Collection, Harvard University. 



ETHEL BARRYMORE AS THE RUSTIC MAID IN ROSEMARY 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 

WHEN we were playing The Duke of Killi- 
crankie at the National Theatre in Washing- 
ton, President Roosevelt sent for me to come into his 
box during one of the intermissions. He and his party 
were in the box usually reserved for the President, and 
it has a small withdrawing room back of it. I had 
supposed that he would see me in this room. Instead, 
when he greeted me he drew me through the secret 
service men who were sitting at the back. With him 
were Mrs. Roosevelt, two of the Roosevelt children 
and Mrs. Henry Cabot Lodge. 

I felt much perturbed to be before an audience on 
the wrong side of the curtain. It did not occur to 
President Roosevelt at all that I should have any diffi- 
dence about coming before people with my make-up 
on. His greeting was most hearty, and he liked the 
play. 

The last time I heard from him was a few weeks 
before he died, when he wrote me : "Just to wish you 
many happy New Years, John Drew; from an old 
friend and admirer." 

201 



202 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Theodore Roosevelt's successor, President Taft, also 
brought me to the front of a box in my make-up. We 
were playing The Perplexed Husband by Alfred Sutro 
at the Empire Theatre in New York, when President 
Taft asked me to come into the box. His party had 
arrived late and was not seen by the audience when 
they were ushered into the theatre. The lights were 
turned on, and I appeared in the box just as the audi- 
ence recognized the President. 

Captain Marshall wrote two very delightful com- 
edies in which I played, The Second in Command and 
The Duke of Killicrankie. 

The Second in Command served me for two seasons. 
This play was the first time that khaki was used on the 
stage; that is, it was the first exposition of khaki on 
the stage in a military sense. Guy Standing, who was 
knighted for his services in the British Navy during 
the recent war, was extremely good as Colonel Ans- 
truther. 

My nephew, Lionel Barrymore, who played the part 
of a young officer in this play made a pleasing impres- 
sion, but the following season, as the Neapolitan organ 
grinder in The Mummy and the Humming Bird his 
work was a revelation. 

The original cast of The Second in Command was: 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 203 

Lieut. Col. Miles 

Anstruther, D. S. O. Guy Standing 
Major Christopher 

Bingham John Drew 
Lieutenant Sir Walter 

Mannering Oswald Yorke 

Lieutenant Barker Lionel Barrymore 

Medenhem Reginald Carrington 

Hartopp Robert Schable 

Sergeant George Harcourt 

Corporal Percy Smith 

Orderly George Ford 

Mr. Fen wick Lewis Baker 
The Hon. Hildebrand 

Carstairs Hassard Short 

The Duke of Hull Robert Mackay 

Muriel Mannering Ida Conquest 

Lady Harburgh Ida Vernon 

Norah Vining Caroline Keeler 

The Duke of Killicrankie was a very fine, light com- 
edy in which four sharply contrasted characters are 
thrown together. These were played by that famous 
English actress, Fannie Brough, Margaret Dale, Ferdi- 
nand Gottschalk and myself. 

The complete cast was: 

The Duke John Drew 

Henry Pitt Welby Ferdinand Gottschalk 
Ambrose Hicks Lewis Baker 

Butler Robert Schable 

Alexander Macbayne Reginald Carrington 



204 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Footman B. W. Parmenter 
Countess of 

Pangbourne Kate Lester 
Lady Henrietta 

Addison Margaret Dale 

Mrs. Mulholland Fannie Brough 

Mrs. Macbayne Constance Bell 

The summer before I appeared in Captain Dieppe 
by Anthony Hope and Edward Rose, I met the two 
authors in London. We had lunch together, and An- 
thony Hope said to Rose: "You tell the story of 
Captain Dieppe." 

Rose replied: "No, I told it the last time." 

Finally after some little arguing between them, they 
told me the story of this play, and it sounded fairly 
reasonable. When it was presented, it did not have 
the quality of an Anthony Hope story, and it was not 
a success. 

Elizabeth Marbury, who was Anthony Hope's 
agent, sent him a cable after the first performance in 
Providence where the play was tried out. "Play ap- 
parently pleased Providence public." I asked Miss 
Marbury afterwards whether she thought the allitera- 
tion would have any convincing power with Anthony 
Hope. 

In that same early season in a play of Clyde Fitch's 
called Glad of It, in which my nephew, John Barry- 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 20? 

more, had a small part, there was a conversation be- 
tween two shop girls. 

"Where are you going tonight, dearie?" 

"Why, to see John Drew in Captain Dippy." 

Unfortunately for this play, they did not have to 
change the line for Glad of It was an even greater 
failure than Captain Dieppe. 

The season of Augustus Thomas's play, De Lancey, 
in which Doris Keane, Walter Hale, Margaret Dale 
and Guy Nichols played with me, we were booked to 
open New Year's day at the Hollis Street Theatre in 
Boston. There was no morning train at that time which 
we could count on getting us to Boston in time for the 
matinee. 

Every year on the anniversary of the opening of The 
Players — New Year's Eve — there is celebrated 
Founders' Night. I very much wished to attend this 
year, especially as it was the first year that I was 
president of the club. 

Through the influence of a friend in the railroad 
business I was given permission to have a private car 
containing my company — several of the men were 
members of The Players and also wanted to be there 
that night — attached to the newspaper and mail train 
that arrives in Boston early in the morning. 

We had the most uncomfortable train ride and ar- 



206 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

rived early, far out in the yards. We went to our 
hotels, where we learned that we were not booked to 
play a holiday matinee. New Year's Day was not at 
that time a holiday in the state of Massachusetts. The 
company manager had not taken the trouble to consult 
the Frohman office. He took it for granted that we 
were to play a matinee. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 

MY season at the Empire Theatre under the 
management of Charles Frohman usually 
opened on Labor Day or very close to that day. I 
played a varying number of weeks in New York and 
then went on tour. Our itinerary on the road was much 
the same, except that we did not go to the Coast every 
year. One year we would go to New Orleans, playing 
Richmond, Charleston, Savannah and the intervening 
towns on our way, and the next year we would go to 
the Coast. 

The year that we did My Wife, a comedy by 
Michael Morton from the French of Devault et Char- 
nay, we went both South and West. We reached the 
Coast just at the time the fleet came into San Fran- 
cisco; that was the year that Roosevelt sent the fleet 
around the world. There was a great deal of enthusi- 
asm and a good deal of entertaining for the officers and 
men. I knew a great many of the commanders, and 
we visited several of the ships for lunch. 

We were playing in the Van Ness Theatre, a theatre 

which was built hurriedly after the fire. It seated an 

207 



208 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

enormous number of people. It had a corrugated-iron 
roof and when the summer trade winds came up during 
the matinee they rattled the roof so much that the audi- 
ence could barely hear what was said on the stage. 

My Wife did an enormous business in San Fran- 
cisco that year, as it had done everywhere on the road. 
In all the towns that we visited, Billie Burke, who was 
my leading woman, was acclaimed as a charming ac- 
tress and a beautiful woman. She played Beatrice 
Dupre. The cast for My Wife was: 



Gerald Eversligh 
The Hon. Gibson 

Gore. 
Captain Putnam 

Frezby 
M. Dupre 
Baron Goranclos 
M. Valborne 
M. Potin 
Davie s 
Crocker 
Headwaiter 
Rene Flanders 
Porter 

Beatrice Dupre 
Miriam Hawthorne 
Mrs. Denham Fane 
Barones Granclos 
Madam Dupre 
Marie 



John Drew 

Ferdinand Gottschalk 

Walter Soderling 

Morton Selten 

Albert Roccardi 

Mario Majeroni 

Axel Bruun 

Herbert Budd 

Rex McDougal 

E. Soldene Powell 

Frank Goldsmith 

L. C. Howard 

Billie Burke 

Dorothy Tenant 

Ida Greeley Smith 

Hope Latham 

Mrs. Kate Pattison Selten 

May Gayler 




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MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 209 

In this play I was the guardian of Beatrice, who 
runs away from a school and suddenly appears at my 
place. We go to Switzerland, and I gradually fall in 
love with her. On our return we are married. 

Someone sent out some press stuff that I was not 
only her guardian in the play, but that I had some 
years before made a pact with her father, whose name 
also was Billie Burke, that, in case of his death, I 
would look out for his daughter. Of course there was 
no truth in this statement, and Billie Burke became 
my leading woman because she had done well in some 
Frohman plays in London. Charles Frohman was 
much pleased with her reception in this country, and 
the following year he starred her in Love Watches. 

One night just after the play in San Francisco, word 
was brought into my dressing room that Mr. Daly 
wanted to see me. I did not know anyone named Daly 
in the city at that time, nor could I place him when 
a large, powerful-looking Chinaman wearing Ameri- 
can clothes was ushered into my room. 

"You don't remember Lu Lung, Mr. Drew," he 
said without any accent. 

Then I remembered that on one of our trips to the 
Coast years before, Augustin Daly had bought a little 
Chinaman from his parents for a period of three years. 
For a while Lu Lung Daly, dressed in beautiful Chi- 



210 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

nese clothes, had given out the programs in the lobby 
of Daly's Theatre, and Augustin Daly was greatly 
pleased with his contract ; but he became very tired of 
the little Chinaman and got too much of him in his 
household and in his employ. 

Daly never found a way to get out of the arrange- 
ment which he had made with the boy's parents, and 
it used to amuse the rest of us a great deal; for he 
never found any difficulty in getting rid of anyone else 
connected with the theatre. He was forced to support 
the boy for the entire period. 

Now he stood before me, recalling the old days and 
telling me of Chinatown where, from his own talk, he 
seemed to be something of a power. 

"But why do you call yourself Daly?" I asked. 

"I was Daly — Lu Lung Daly — when I knew you, 
and I thought you would remember me that way." 

Earlier that same season I had been playing in Louis- 
ville the first three days of the week, and E. H. 
Sothern was to follow me for the last three. Before 
I left town Sothern arrived, and we met in the corridor 
of the hotel. We were joined by a very dignified old 
gentleman, who was evidently a citizen of the town. 

He came up, bowed and said to Sothern: "Mr. 
Mansfield, I am very glad to see you here, and I'm 
going to be delighted to attend every performance of 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 211 

yours during your all too brief sojourn. I have 
watched your career, Mr. Mansfield." 

The citizen of Louisville shook hands with Sothern 
again and walked away. 

"Why, in heaven's name, didn't you say some- 
thing?" I asked. 

"What was there to say*?" said Sothern. 

"He doesn't know that Dick Mansfield is dead," I 
went on. 

"Well," said Sothern, "that doesn't hurt me so 
much. He doesn't know that I'm alive." 



CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 



I PLAYED two plays by W. Sommerset Maugham : 
Smith and Jack Straw. Smith, in which Mary 
Boland played the title part, was a success from the 
beginning. 

The cast of Smith was: 



Thomas Freeman 

Herbert Dallas-Baker K. 

Algernon Peppercorn 

Fletcher 

Mrs. Dallas Baker 

Emily Chapman 

Mrs. Otto Rosenberg 

Smith 



John Drew 
Morton Selten 
Hassard Short 
Louis Casson 
Isabel Irving 
Sibil Thorndike 
Jane Laurel 
Mary Boland 



Jack Straw, which like Smith had a great success, 
had this cast: 



Jack Straw 
Ambrose Holland 
Lord Serlo 
Count Adrian 
Von Bremer 
Mr. Parke Jennings 
Vincent, his son 
Rev. Lewis Abbott 

212 



John Drew 

Edgar L. Davenport 

Frank Goldsmith 

Mario Majeroni 
Fred Tyler 
Edwin Nicander 
E. Soldene Powell 




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MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 213 

Mrs. Parke Jennings Rose Coghlan 
Ethel, her daughter Mary Boland 
Lady Wan ley Adelaide Prince 

Rosie Abbott Kate Kimball 

Mrs. Withers Grace Henderson 

In the company there were also a number of ama- 
teurs who walked on and took places at tables in the 
restaurant scene. One of the young men had nothing 
to do except to walk to a table with a young woman, 
to be told by the head waiter to go to another table,, 
and then, after they had moved, only to be told that 
they must move again. They are supposed to be very 
irate at this. It was all dumb show. 

When we were on tour we reached the native town 
of this young man, and the papers in advance had 
some small notices about him and that he was a mem- 
ber of my company. 

"It's too bad," I told him, "that you are making 
your first appearance in your home town as a mere 
figure." 

I wrote him some lines, so that this friendly audi- 
ence could see him do something more than merely 
walk on and so that he could say that he had acted in 
a play. 

The night of the performance came. The house was 
full of his friends, and they gave him a great recep- 



214 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

tion, so great that he forgot all the lines that I had 
written for him. He just went through the dumb 
show as usual. 

Sudden loss of memory in the theatre is not uncom- 
mon, and it is often tragic in its consequences. But 
there is an amusing story of an old actor who had been 
out of a job for a long time. Finally, he obtained a 
small part which, for anyone of experience, should 
have been easily learned. 

In the play he had a speech in which he advises his 
son to be very diligent and persistent. This fatherly 
advice ended with the good old adage that "time is 
money." 

When he got to this line on the opening night he 

said: "Don't forget that time is " He paused, 

coughed and appealed to the prompter, who answered 
in an audible whisper : "Money." 

The old actor: "Oh, yes — time is money." 

The deduction was that it had been so long since 
he had had any money that he had forgotten that it 
existed. 

My daughter, Louise Drew, and I were riding in 
Central Park one afternoon in December of the year 
that I was playing Inconstant George at the Empire. 
My mare stumbled and, while I was trying to get her 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 215 

on her feet again, she fell. Before I could disengage 
my feet from the stirrups she rolled over me. My 
collar bone was broken, my shoulder fractured and 
the ligaments in my right leg twisted. 

My daughter was wearing a safety riding skirt, but 
for some unknown reason it refused to work when she 
tried to dismount, and she was caught on the pommel. 
She finally disengaged herself, and a mounted police- 
man, to whom she had called, came up. I was taken 
to the Presbyterian Hospital, where Dr. Joseph Blake 
set my shoulder. 

While I was in the hospital I received a letter from 
Frederick Remington, the painter : 

See by paper you are on the mend. You know 
I have a life sentence to walk on one leg because 
of a horse, so I can sympathize. You don't have 
to walk on your hands, but you will have to be 
easy when you "muscle out" chairs as you once 
did so grandly. 

I have observed that a man don't have so much 
glue in the seat of his pants at 40 as at 20. All 
those in favor of this motion say, "How !" 

When I came out of the hospital Frederick Reming- 
ton was dead. 

I attended the horse show in Madison Square Gar- 
den with Frederick Remington one time. We were 



216 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

standing at the ring watching a man we both knew 
riding a horse over some hurdles. When this rider 
passed us I could hear Remington muttering impreca- 
tions under his breath. 

"What's the matter with you?' I asked. "You 
know Frank very well. Don't you like him?" 

"Of course I like him. He's a fine fellow. But I 
used to be able to do that once," Remington said plain- 
tively. By that time he had become quite stout. 

After some weeks I returned to playing, and I 
opened my season in Boston with Inconstant George, 
the play I had been doing before. This adaptation 
from the French of L'Ane de Buridan was never so suc- 
cessful in this country as it was afterwards in England, 
where Charles Hawtrey played the leading part, that 
of a man of many love affairs who falls victim to a 
young woman at last. 

The American cast for Inconstant George was : 

George Bullin John Drew 

Lucian DeVersannes Martin Sabine 
Morland Fred Tilden 

Adolpheus Rex McDougal 

Girand W. Soderling 

Butler Bernard Fairfax 

Page Boy Robert Schable 

Micheline Mary Boland 

Odette de Versannes Adelaide Prince 




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MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 



217 



Fanchon Chancelle 
Vivette Lambert 
Baroness Stecke 
Madam De Lamond 
Louise 



Jane Laurel 
Desmond Kelly 
Marie Berkeley 
Carlotta Doty 
Alice Soderling 



After I left the Daly company I played but one 
Shakespearian character, Benedick ', in Much Ado About 
Nothing. I had always wanted to play this character, 
and when Maude Adams and I were playing together 
I wanted her to play Beatrice. We talked about it a 
great deal, but it was years afterwards before I finally 
played Benedick, and Laura Hope Crewes was the 
Beatrice. 

In this Shakespearian revival the cast was: 



Don Pedro 

Don John 

Claudio 

Benedick 

Leonato 

Antonio 

Bathazar 

Con rad e 

borachio 

Friar Francis 

Dogberry 

Verges 

A Sexton 

Oatcake 

Seacole 

Hero 



Frank Kemble Cooper 
Frank Elliott 
Fred Eric 
John Drew 
Henry Stephenson 
Sidney Herbert 
Nigel Barry 
Herbert Delmore 
Edward Longman 
Bertram Marburgh 
Hubert Druce 
Malcolm Bradley 
Walter Soderling 
Rexford Hendrick 
Murray Ross 
Mary Boland 



218 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Beatrice Laura Hope Crewes 

Margaret Florence Harrison 

Ursula Alice John 

Frohman did not care much about the Shakespearian 
comedy, but he was not unwilling that I should play 
Benedick. I suppose that I had been away from this 
style of comedy too long — more than twenty years; 
in any event, the production was not a success, and the 
acting was not up to the standard set in the Daly pro- 
ductions of Shakespeare. This revival was withdrawn 
and my old success, The Tyranny of Tears, with 
Barrie's fine play in three scenes, The Will, used as 
an afterpiece. 

Joseph H. Choate, while ambassador to England, 
had always been extremely kind and gracious to my 
niece, Ethel Barrymore, and myself when we were in 
London. I always had a lively recollection of this 
kindness, and one day when I was walking down Fifth 
Avenue I saw before me a somewhat bowed figure, 
which I recognized to be that of Choate. 

I overtook him and said: "Do you remember me, 
Mr. Choate?' 

He looked at me for a moment and said: "Good 
God, it's Drew." 

"I said: "It is." 

"Mercy, why don't you grow old?" he asked. 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 219 

It was then some years since our meetings in London. 

I replied: "I don't know, Mr. Choate, unless I can 
explain in the words of old Mr. Adam in As You Like 
It, who says : 'Never in my youth did I apply hot and 
rebellious liquors in my blood.' " 

He looked at me quizzically under his bushy eye- 
brows and asked: "Drew, is that entirely true?" 

I laughed with him and said: "No, sir, it isn't. 
That's what quotations are for." 

He patted me on the shoulder, and we parted. 

In these years as a Frohman star I also played 
Pinero's fine play, His House in Order, in which Mar- 
garet Illington gave a splendid performance and for 
this the cast was: 

Hilary Jesson John Drew 

Filmer Jesson, M. P. C. M. Hallard 

Derek Jesson Leona Powers 

Sir Daniel Ridgeley Arthur Elliot 

Pryce Ridgeley Martin Sabine 

Major Maurewarde Henry Vibart 

Dr. Dilnott Herbert Budd 

Harding Gilbert Douglas 

Forshaw Rex McDougal 

Servants Maurice Franklyn 

Henry Fearing 

Nina Margaret Illington 

Lady Ridgeley Lena Halliday 

Geraldine Ridgeley Madge Girdlestone 

Mlle. Thome Hope Latham 



220 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Then there were The Perplexed Husband by Alfred 
Sutro; The Prodigal Husband ', which was adapted 
from the French; The Chief by Horace Annesley Va- 
chell; and A Single Man by Hubert Davies, in which 
Ivan Simpson, Mary Boland, Thais Law ton and my 
daughter, Louise Drew appeared. 



CHAPTER THIRTY 

ONCE, on an Italian holiday, we set out from 
Sorrento to drive along the Mediterranean to 
Amain, where we were to lunch. On the way we 
stopped at a place called Positano, a dreadful town. 
A lot of windows were broken, and the town seemed 
badly in need of repair. I think most of the people 
had migrated to this country. However, when we drew 
up at the principal inn the proprietor came out. I 
had a guide with me, and he spoke to him in Italian. 

The proprietor wanted to know if we would like to 
stop for lunch, but we declined. Mrs. Drew and my 
daughter ordered a lemonade. I ordered some beer. 
All this time this guide of mine was talking English 
to me and Italian to the proprietor. 

A young woman who was traveling with us wanted a 
glass of milk. The proprietor was an extremely good 
appearing young man. He wore fairly good clothes 
and did not look like a proprietor of an inn over there. 

Our drinks were brought in, and he finally came in 
himself with this glass of milk, and he had a humorous 

221 



222 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

look on his face. He put it down by the young woman 
with us who tasted it and exclaimed : "They've heated 
it." 

It turned out afterwards that it had been milked out 
of a goat in the back yard. My courier was at that time 
downstairs having his drinks, so I asked the young 
proprietor in Italian for some ice to put in the milk, 
and he laughed. I thought he was laughing at my 
Italian, but he said: "Say, bo, you might as well ask 
me for a gold mine over here." 

Of course consternation and astonishment were reg- 
istered by all of us. 

I said: "Where did you get that Second Avenue 
East Side English?" 

"I lived there," he said. 

"Aren't you Italian?" 

"Yes, I was ; but I went over there with me parents." 
He had lived all his life on the East Side. 

I said : "What are you doing here?" 

"Well," he said, "me uncle bought this place." 

His uncle, it seems, had gone to the United States 
years before and had made some money in a restaurant. 
He had bought this inn when he had made enough 
money to do so. It was rather an historic place in a 
way. 

"Are you going to stay here?" 




JOHN DREW AT EASTHAMPTON, LONG ISLAND 




KYALAMI, JOHN DREW S HOUSE AT EASTHAMPTON 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 223 

"Naw. Me mother's coming over soon, and when 
she does, me for the big city." 

The whole thing struck me as very extraordinary. 
"When you get back to the big city you must come and 
see me," I said. 

He asked: "What's your name?" 

I told him. 

"Sure," he said, "I know you. You got a cigar 
factory there." 

He referred of course to a five-cent cigar that was 
named after me without my consent. 

It was more flattering even than the occasion when 
Lewis and I were recognized by the impudent child in 
the garden at Hamburg. 

When we got to Amalfi, just after we had had lunch, 
Burton Holmes turned up. He greeted us and said: 
"I've just met a friend of yours a few miles back. He 
says he knows you very well." 

I said: "Was it the proprietor of the inn at Posi- 
tano?' 

Holmes said that he had been looking over the reg- 
ister, which was very old and interesting. In it he saw 
the names of our party. 

"There's somebody I know," Holmes said to the 
proprietor of the inn. 

"He was here today." 



224 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

"I know him very well," said Holmes. 

"So do I," said the young man; "many a time I 
seen him act at the Fourteenth Street Theatre." 

Never in my whole career have I played there. 

We went to Prague in Bohemia, and on our arrival 
at the Blauen Stern Hotel we also found many win- 
dows broken but this time not from want of repair. 
Upon inquiry we found that it had been done by the 
infuriated citizens the day before, Sunday. All the 
signs there were in Czech as well as in German. The 
people had not seen this. They had only seen the Ger- 
man name on the hotel, and they proceeded to break 
all the windows. 

We were going to the opera that night, and when we 
came out of the hotel I saw that the porter was busy 
putting some other people into a trap ; so I hailed a cab- 
man and told him, in German, to take me to the opera 
and then to come back for me. 

He looked at me as much as to say : "You're a poor 
boob." 

By that time the hotel porter had finished with the 
other people and came over to us. I said to him : 
"What is the matter with this fellow that he doesn't 
want to take me*?" 

He answered me in English: "He speaks no Ger- 
man. He speaks only Czech." 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 225 

And he spoke to him in this impossible tongue and 
the man took me on my way. I bought a local paper. 
It was the most awful-looking thing. It was worse than 
Magyar. It looked as if a drunken compositor had 
just taken type and hurled it at the sheet. Arthur 
Byron, who was in my company in so many plays, was 
playing in Chicago at that time. I decided since I 
could not read the paper to send it to him. I marked 
a certain portion of it and sent it on with a notation 
on the side that it was a good notice of me. 

Byron told me afterwards that he received the paper 
just as he was coming out of the theatre after long 
hours of rehearsing. He had been much annoyed by an 
actor in the company who had been extremely nervous 
during the rehearsal, as a result of unwisely celebrating 
the night before. 

''What's that?" the nervous actor asked. 

"You know Drew?" said Byron. 

The actor agreed that he did, and Byron handed him 
the paper saying: "There's a notice of Drew. He's in 
Germany now. It's splendid." 

The nervous actor took the paper, looked at the mess 
of meaningless type and with a cry, fled madly. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 

IN the revival of Rosemary, I was booked to appear 
for one night in the Metropolitan Theatre at 
Rochester, Minnesota, the home of the Mayo brothers. 
When I reached the theatre I found it was a horrible 
hole. The condition of things behind the scenes was 
shocking, to say the least. I was infuriated with my 
stage manager, because he hadn't told me about the 
theatre. He had gone there during the day in time to 
have had something done. At least there might have 
been some cleaning done. 

I wrote to the health officer, who happened to be one 
of the Mayo brothers, and told him of the desperate 
condition of the theatre. He went with the mayor of 
the town to see the place and ordered the theatre closed 
until it should be renovated and cleaned. 

I had a feeling that I had not done myself any good, 
for I had to give my performance, but that I had bet- 
tered the place for the next touring company. I wrote 
to Charles Frohman about the matter, and the last 

letter I ever received from him informed me that this 

226 




PAVLOWA AND JOHN DREW, AT THE TIME OF THE REVIVAL OF ROSEMARY 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 227 

theatre was scratched by his office, Klaw and Erlanger 
and others. 

I did not see Charles Frohman before he sailed on 
the "Lusitania," but when I was in Anaconda I re- 
ceived a letter from him telling me that he was sailing 
very shortly. Alf Hayman, who owned the Empire 
Theatre and ran the business affairs of the Frohman 
offices, and I, had tried to dissuade him. He laughed 
at us for our fear for him. This last letter of his read : 

The Metropolitan, Rochester, Minnesota, is 
scratched by this office, K. & E., and others. You 
did it and I am glad. As I telegraphed you I 
gave that play that I had intended for you a calm 
reading in my own home and I rather fear it is a 
bit old-fashioned and too talky. I have given it 
up. You see when one reads these things away 
from New York it is different and most anything 
is acceptable. It is different when you are at home. 
I know you like to be away from New York (I 
had written Frohman asking that the tour be 
ended) . Alf Hayman has just told me how eager 
you are to continue after Los Angeles. If you 
play a week to cover the railroad fares it will be 
all right. Why a young man like you likes to 
continue on these tours I don't know. I hope to 
get away on May first and back shortly after you 
reach here. I am searching for something for you. 
Our last talk before you left for the West gave 
me much happiness. 



228 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

When I received this letter I was days from New 
York, and there wasn't even time to write Frohman. I 
telegraphed and, after whatever private matters I had 
to tell him, I said: 

If you get yourself blown up by a submarine 
I'll never forgive you. 

This was my last communication with the man who 
for twenty-three years had been my manager and with 
whom I had never had the slightest disagreement. 

C. F. had a feeling, almost a superstitious feeling, 
that as I was his first star I must always be regarded 
and cherished and cosseted. William Gillette was his 
second star, but he had been a star before he came 
under Frohman's management. 

I was in Vancouver when I heard that the "Lusi- 
tania" had been sunk, but we had no news of the people 
on the boat. We were on our way to our next stop, 
Everett, Washington; and there my acting manager 
and I sat up in the telegraph room of a small news- 
paper office for hours. Here we learned that Charles 
Frohman was among those lost. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 

SPEAK your piece good and you will get a big red 
apple," was an ancient wheeze of the rural 
schools. 

When my niece, Ethel Barrymore, appeared for the 
first time at the Garrick Theatre in New York in Clyde 
Fitch's play, Captain Jinks, I gave her a large red 
apple. This was the start of a custom that I have 
since observed on the first night of the plays in which 
not only my niece, but my two nephews, Lionel and 
John Barrymore, appear. And in recent years my niece 
and nephews have sent me a large red apple on the first 
nights of the plays in which I have appeared. 

The two Barrymore boys did not go on the stage so 
early as their sister. They both thought of careers out- 
side of the theatre, John as a newspaper artist and 
Lionel as a painter. John was for a time on the art 
staff of the Evening Journal in New York. He drew 
clever but involved pictures. I remember one entitled 
"The Web of Life," in which a lot of weird people 
were trying to get across some place. It carried an 
editorial note which began: "This is not an unpleas- 
ant picture when looked at properly." 

229 



230 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

Shortly after 1900 they were all three on the stage, 
where practically every member of their family before 
them had been. John is the only one of the three Barry- 
mores who has not played in my company. In May, 
1914, my niece and I appeared at the Empire in Sar- 
dou's comedy, A Scrap of Paper, with this cast: 

Prosper Couramont John Drew 
Baron De 

LaGlaciere Charles Dalton 

Brisemouche Fuller Mellish 

Anatole Ernest Glendinning 

Francois Frank McCoy 

Suzanne Ethel Barrymore 
Louise De 

LaGlaciere Mary Boland 

Mathilde Charlotte Ives 

Mlle. Zenobie Jeffrys Lewis 

Madame Dupont Mrs. Thomas Whiff en 

Pauline Helen Collier 

The season that I revived Rosemary I received from 
S. Yeghi, one of the Japanese commissioners to the 
Panama-Pacific International Exposition, a collection 
of eighteen character dolls, each one about half an inch 
high. They are all vividly colored and quaint, some 
grotesque and some serious. The letter that came with 
them was: 

When I arrived at San Francisco I found that 
one very artistic friend sent me from Japan the 




Photo, by Charlotte Fairchild. 




MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 231 

dolls of eighteen plays of Kabuki. In Japan there 
has been for almost two hundred years the family 
of Ichikawa, the family of the best actors of 
Japan. In this family, if the son was not a good 
actor to represent the family, the best actor of the 
time was adopted to the family to bear the name 
of Ichikawa. 

There are eighteen plays which were selected 
by this family, and they are called the Eighteen 
Plays of Kabuki. And to perform any of the 
eighteen plays, one should obtain permission of 
the family, even if he is an Ichikawa. 

The dolls signify these eighteen plays of Ka- 
buki. Kabuki could be translated as Drama, and 
in Kabuki there is also Dance included. 

These dolls of Kabuki were first made about 
one hundred and fifty years ago, and they were 
not in fashion for the last fifty or sixty years. 
They are the remains of the art of the Tokugawa 
period and they are plain, simple dolls symboliz- 
ing the plays. 

A friend of mine made these dolls for the first 
time in the last sixty years, and even in Japan 
they are very novel and interesting. 

And it is my sincere wish to present these dolls 
to you, and I wish you would accept them with my 
sincere respect for your art. The dolls are entirely 
made with hand, they are modeled with hand and 
colored by hand. 

Your Rosemary is the only "Remembrance" 
that would make me think of America when I 
return back to Japan. Particularly I could not 
forget that last scene of Rosemary, so impres- 
sively lonesome. 



232 MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 

I could not forgive myself for not being able 
to see you in New York. 

I am going back to Japan in about one month, 
after settling our affairs at the Exposition. 

And I am greatly anxious to have two photo- 
graphs of yourself, one in stage costume, and one 
in which you appear as yourself. 

And before your photographs, I would tell the 
young people of Japan of your artful acting, for 
which I am certain they would pay you the best 
and highest respect. 

Though this country has had no theatrical family 
which can boast, like the Ichikawa, of two hundred 
years in the theatre, there have been several families 
closely identified with the stage. In an editorial article 
called "Acting Blood," the New York Herald a few 
years ago printed: 

The theatrical profession has produced families 
in which the acting blood ran strong through more 
than one generation. The Booths, Jeffersons and 
Davenports were notable examples of inherited 
talent, and still more distinguished, in the eyes of 
the present generation of playgoers, are the 
Drews, now conspicuously in the public eye. The 
founder of the family was John Drew, one of the 
best Irish comedians our stage has known, who 
flourished during the fifties and whose wife, Mrs. 
John Drew, was a famous Mrs. Malaprop. 

My daughter, Louise Drew, the granddaughter of 
two famous actresses of the American stage, my mother, 



MY YEARS ON THE STAGE 233 

Louisa Drew, and Alexina Fisher Baker, and the great 
granddaughter of the English actress, Eliza Kinloch, 
together with the three children of my sister, Georgie 
Drew Barrymore, herself an actress of fine talent, are 
carrying on the family tradition and demonstrating the 
possession of "acting blood" in the fourth generation. 



INDEX 



Abbey, Edwin A, 106, 136. 
Adams, Annie, 50, 171, 178. 
Adams, Maude, 50, 169, 170, 171, 

173, 177; 178, 183, 184, 186, 217. 
After Business Hours, 109. 
Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 159, 161. 
All the Comforts of Home, 170. 
Allen, C. Leslie, 171, 177, 184. 
Amberly, Lady, 11. 
Amberly, Lord, 11. 
American, The, 61. 
Arabian Night, An, 78. 
Archer, Fred, 147. 
Arkansas Traveler, The, 37, 38. 
Armstrong, Sydney, 182. 
As You Like It, 95, 96, 98, 137, 

140. 
Ayling, Herbert, 184. 

B 

Baker, Alexina Fisher, 38, 233. 
Baker, Josephine. See Mrs. John 

Drew. 
Baker, Lewis, 38, 60, 61, 177, 184, 

193, 199, 203. 
Bancrofts, The, 146. 
Barnes, Maggie, 76. 
Barrett, Lawrence, 94, 96, 159, 

161. 
Barrett, Wilson, 93. 
Barrie, J. M., 197, 218. 
Barry, Nigel, 217. 
Barrymore, Ethel, 56, 188, 190, 

200, 218, 229, 230, 233. 
Barrymore, John, 204, 229, 230, 

233. 
Barrymore, Lionel, 202, 203, 229, 

230, 233. 
Barrymore, Maurice, 54, 57, 58, 

59, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69. 



Barrymore, Mrs. Maurice. See 

Georgie Drew. 
Bauble Shop, The, 183. 
Beau Brummel, 171. 
Beekman, W. H., 114. 
Belasco, David, 182. 
Bell, Constance, 204. 
Bell, E. Hamilton, 93, no, 112. 
Belleville, Frederick de, no. 
Bells, The, 60. 
Belmont, Anna, 184. 
Benedict, E. C, 159. 
Bennett, Frank V., 76, 77, 16$, 

166. 
Berkeley, Marie, 217. 
Bernhardt, Sarah, 61, 138, 199, 

200. 
Big Bonanza, The, 41, 43, 45, 46, 

47, 48. 
Bispham, William, 159, 161. 
Blowitz, M. de, 142. 
Boland, Mary, 197, 212, 213, 216, 

217, 220, 230. 
Bond, Frederick, 93, 101, 112, 114, 

116. 
Booth, Agnes, 98. 
Booth, Edwin, 8, 24, 31, 54, 56, 

57, 58, 9i, 159, 160, 232. 
Boots at the Swan, 88. 
Bosworth, Hobart, 96, 98, 100, 

116. 
Bouchier, Arthur, 139. 
Boucicault, Dion, 47, 86, 182. 
Boughton, George, 137. 
Bowers, Mrs. D. P., 8, 165, 183. 
Bowkett, Sidney, n6. 
Bradley, Malcolm, 217. 
Brand, John, 84. 
Brighton, 151. 
Brough, Fannie, 203, 204. 
Brown, Allston, 114. 
Browning, Robert, 137. 



235 



236 



INDEX 



Bruun, Axel, 208. 
Buckland, Wilfred, 100. 
Budd, Herbert, 208, 219. 
Buchanan, Virginia, 171. 
Bunch of Keys, A, 164. 
Bunner, H. C, 106. 
Burke, Billie, 208, 209. 
Burnand, F. C, 138, 139. 
Burton, Blanche, 193. 
Butterflies, 177, 178, 184. 
Byron, Arthur, 177, 184, 193, 198, 

199, 225. 
Byron, Henry J., 47. 
Byron, Mrs. Oliver Doud, 33. 



Cabinet Minister, The, 109, no. 

Camille, 8, 30. 

Captain Dieppe, 204, 205. 

Captain Jinks, 200, 229. 

Cardiff Giant, 71. 

Carleton, Henry Guy, 177, 183. 

Carr, Comyns, 109. 

Carr, Herbert, 199. 

Carrington, Reginald, 203. 

Carson, Murray, 186. 

Carton, R. C, 184 

Casson, Louis, 212. 

Casting a Boomerang, 123. 

Chambers, C. Haddon, 197. 

Chanfrau, Frank, 37, 38. 

Charity, 47, 140. 

Cheatham, Kitty, 100. 

Chief, The, 220. 

Choate, Joseph H., 218, 219. 

Christopher, Jr., 184. 

Churchill, Winston, 198. 

Clarke, George, 95, 96, 98, 100, 

116. 
Clarke, J. S., 61. 
Clayton, John, in. 
Clemens, Samuel L. See Mark 

Twain. 
Cleveland, Grover, 176. 
Coghlan, Charles, 116. 
Coghlan, Rose, 98, 213. 
Collier, Helen, 230. 
Collier, William, 91, 94, 100, 101, 

152, 153. 
Conquest, Ida, 197, 198, 199, 203. 
Contented Woman, A, 179. 



Conway, Mrs. F. B., 183. 
Conway, Hart, 76, 77, 99. 
Cool as a Cucumber, 1, 2, 3. 
Cooper, Frank Kemble, 217. 
Coquelin, 61, 113, 141. 
Country Girl, The, 115, 127, 128,141. 
Country Sport, The, 175. 
Country Wife, The, 115. 
Craig, Robert, 25, 27. 
Crane, Edith, 100, 116. 
Crane, W. H., 48, 98, 189. 
Crehan, Ada, 33. 
Crewes, Laura Hope, 197, 217, 

218. 
Crosman, Henrietta, 95, 96. 
Cummings, Ellen, 62, 63. 
Custer, General, 16, 17. 
Curry, Jim, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68. 
Curtis, George William, 106. 
Cymbeline, 59. 

D 

Dailey, Peter, 175. 

Dale, Margaret, 203, 204, 205. 

Dalton, Charles, 230. 

Daly, Arnold, 175. 

Daly, Augustin, 33, 36, 39, 40, 41, 
42, 43, 45, 46, 47, 49, 5<>, 57, 
60, 61, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 
84, 88, 89, 91, 92, 94, 95, 99, 
101, 103, 104, 105, no, in, 113, 
115, 119, 121, 124, 125, 127, 134, 
141, 143, 146, 150, 151, 159, 161, 
162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, J71, 
172, 194, 195, 196, 209, 210. 

Daly, Joseph F., 57, 159. 

Daly, Lu Lung, 209, 210. 

Daly, Peter. See Arnold Daly. 

Daly's Theatre, 71 (Opening). 

Dam, Henry, 121. 

Damala, 138. 

Dandy Dick, 109, no. 

Davenport, E. L., 24, 232. 

Davenport, Edgar L., 212, 233. 

Davenport, Fanny, 40, 45, 47, 49, 

50, 96, 99, 140. 
Davy Crockett, 30. 
Davidge, William, 54, 76, 77, 99. 
Davies, Hubert, 220. 
Davies, H. Rees, 62. 
Davis, Richard Harding, 191. 



INDEX 



237 



De Lancey, 205. 

Delmore, Herbert, 217. 

Derickson, Marie, 193. 

De Wolfe, Elsie, 184, 188, 191. 

Dickens, Charles, 24-26, 38, 135. 

Diplomacy, 62, 66, 68. 

Dithmar, Edward A., 84, 107. 

Divorce, 62, 76. 

Dodson, J. E., 183. 

Dollars and Sense, 109, 123. 

Doro, Marie, 195. 

Doty, Carlotta, 217. 

Douglas, Gilbert, 219. 

Dreher, Virginia, 93, 94, 112, 114, 

123, 134. 
Drew, Edward, 14, 15. 
Drew, Frank, 28, 29, 70. 
Drew, George, 15. 
Drew, Georgie, 1, 2, 3, 35, 38, 69, 

233- 

Drew, John, 1-6 (debut), 6-29 
(early recollections), 32-40 
(Arch Street Theatre), 42-46 
(New York debut), 47-52 (to 
coast with Daly Company), 54- 
59 (with Booth), 59 (with 
Adelaide Neilson), 60 (with 
Jefferson), 62-68 (with Warde 
and Barrymore), 71-117 (the 
Daly Company), 118-153 ( tne 
Daly Company abroad), 168 
(last performance with Daly 
Company), 169-230 (under 
management of Charles Froh- 
man). 

Drew, Mrs. John, 38, 170, 221. 

Drew, John, Sr., 1, 2, 8, 9, 21, 22, 

23. 34, 35- 
Drew, Mrs. John, Sr., 1, 2, 3, 4, 

6, 7, 8, 13, 19, 34, 35, 40, 114, 

189, 190, 232, 233. 
Drew, Louisa. See Mrs. John 

Drew, Sr. 
Drew, Louise, 214, 220, 232. 
Drink, 70. 
Druce, Hubert, 217. 
Duff, John, 70. 
Duke of Killicrankie, The, 201, 

202, 203. 
du Maurier, G., 150. 
Dyas, Ada, 99. 



E 



East Lynne, 8. 

Eckendorf, Major, 14. 

Edmunds, Walter, 76, 77. 

Edwards, Harry, 100, 116, 159. 

Elliott, Arthur, 219. 

Elliott, Frank, 217. 

Empire Theatre (opening of), 

182. 
Eric, Fred, 217. 
Esmond, H. V., 191. 
Evangeline, 180. 



Fair, James, 48, 49. 

Fairfax, Bernard, 216. 

Far from the Madding Crowd, 

109. 
Fawcett, Edgar, 78, 104, 105. 
Fearing, Henry, 219. 
Febvre, Frederick, 176. 
Fechter, Charles, 27, 30. 
Fernandez, Bijou, 94. 
Fielding, May, 75, 114. 
Fisher, Amelia, 79, 80. 
Fisher, Charles, 27, 52, ;4, 75, 77, 

93, 99, ii2, 114. 
Fitch, Clyde, 171, 180, 200, 204, 

229. 
Flagg, Georgine, 76. 
Florence, Katherine, 182. 
Florence, Lillian, 171. 
Florence, W. J., 183. 
Flower, Charles, 122. 
Fool's Revenge, The, 24. 
Ford, George, 203. 
Foresters, The, 36, 139. 
Forrest, Edwin, 7, 24, 61, 161. 
Franklyn, Maurice, 219. 
Fredericks, William S., 8. 
Frohman, Charles, 69, 163, 164, 

165, 166, 167, 168, 173, 175, 186, 

195, 198, 200, 207, 209, 218, 226, 

227, 228. 
Frohman, Daniel, 198. 
Fulda, Ludwig, 170. 
Furness, Horace Howard, 88, 90. 
Files, Franklin, 182. 



238 



INDEX 



Gayler, May, 208. 

Gilbert, Mrs. G. H., 40, 46, 49, 

50, 77, 81, 83, 84, 88, 89, 90, 93, 

103, 105, 116, 123, 128, 132, 151, 

166, 195, 196. 
Gilbert, William, 93, 96, 114, 132. 
Gilbert, W. S., 47, 59, 140. 
Gillette, William, 163, 170, 228. 
Girdlestone, Madge, 219. 
Girl I Left Behind Me, The, 182. 
Glad of It, 204, 205. 
Glendenning, Ernest, 230. 
Golden Widow, 113. 
Goldsmith, Frank, 208, 212. 
Goodwin, Nat C, 179, 180, 181, 

189. 
Gottschalk, Ferdinand, 203, 208. 
Gower, Lord Ronald, 138. 
Granger, Maude, 70. 
Granny, 195, 196. 
Grant, General, 87. 
Grattan, Stephen, 101, 152, 153. 
Great Eastern, The, 26. 
Great Ruby, The, 194. 
Great Unknown, The, 109. 
Gormley, Owen, 74, 75. 
Grey, Alice, 54. 
Griffen, C, 6. 

Grossmith, George, 138, 139. 
Grundy, Sydney, 190. 

H 
Hackett, James K., 198. 
Hale, Walter, 205. 
Hallard, C. M., 219. 
Halliday, Lena, 219. 
Hamlet, 54, 57, 126. 
Handy Andy, 22. 
Harcourt, George, 203. 
Hardenburg, F., 54. 
Hardy, Thomas, 109, 139. 
Hare, John, 150. 
Harkins, D. H., 54, 57, 99, <93- 
Harte, Bret, 147, 148. 
Harrold, Maggie, 77. 
Harrison, Florence, 218. 
Harwood, Harry, 171, 177, 184, 

193, 198, 199. 
Hawtrey, Charles, 216. 
Hayman, Al, 164, 165. 



Hayman, Alf, 227. 
Henderson, Grace, 213. 
Hendrick, Rexford, 217. 
Henriques, Madelaine, 27. 
Her Atonement, 163. 
Herbert, Sidney, 100, 116, 217. 
His Excellency, The Governor, 

200. 
His House in Order, 219. 
Hodgson, Sir Arthur, 121. 
Holland, Edward, 189. 
Holland, Joseph, 94, 101, 189. 
Holmes, Burton, 223, 224. 
Hope, Anthony, 204. 
Hopper, De Wolf, 163. 
Hopper, Edward, 11. 
Hopper, Isaac T., 10. 
Howard, Bronson, 47, 50, 77, 93, 

151, 163. 
Howard, L. C, 208. 
Hoyt, Charles, 164, 170, 179, 180. 
Humphreys, Joseph, 184. 
Hunter, Clara, 193. 
Hunting, P., 76, 77. 
Hutton, Lawrence, 159. 

I 

Ichikawa, 231, 232. 
Illington, Margaret, 219. 
Inconstant George, 214, 216. 
International Match, An, 109. 
Iredale, Frank, 76. 
Irish, Annie, 193. 
Irish Emigrant, The, 22. 
Irving, Henry, 60, 95, 126, 137, 

138, 144, 150, 190, 196. 
Irving, Isabel, 95, 100, 1 10, 190, 

193, 197, 198, 212. 
Irwin, May, 104, 112, 114, 132, 

175- 
Ives, Charlotte, 230. 



Jack Straw, 212. 
James, Henry, 147, 150. 
James, Louis, 30, 90, 91, 99. 
Jefferson, Joseph, 4, 60, 86, 87, 
155, 160, 162, 180, 189, 190, 232. 
Jerome, Jerome K., 195. 
Jerrold, W. Blanchard, 1. 
Jewett, Sarah, 40. 



INDEX 



239 



John, Alice, 218. 
Johnson, Andrew, 16. 
Johnson, Orrin, 182, 193. 
Jones, Henry Arthur, 183, 191. 
Jones, Mrs. W. G., 199. 

K 

Katkerine and Petruchio. See 

The Taming of the Shrew. 
Keeler, Caroline, 203. 
Kelly, Desmond, 217. 
Kendal, Mr. and Mrs., 146. 
Kester, Paul, 196. 
Kimball, Kate, 213. 
Kingdon, (Gould) Edith, 94, 107, 

"2, 133- 

Kinloch, Eliza, 12, 19, 233. 
Kiskadden. See Adams. 
Kitty O'Skiel, 36. 
Klein, Alfred, 163, 164. 
Klein, Charles, 163. 
Knight of Arva, 22. 



Labouchere, Henry, 124. 

Lacy, Harry, 77. 

Lady Hunfworth's Experiment, 
184. 

Lady of Lyons, The, 194. 

Laffan, Robert, 122. 

Lamb, Edward, 183. 

Lamb, Frank E., 171, 177, 183, 
184, 198. 

Lane, Louisa. See Mrs. John 
Drew, Sr. 

Lanner, Margaret, 77. 

L'Assomoir, 70, 75. 

Latham, Hope, 208. 

Laurel, Jane, 212, 217. 

Lawton, Thais, 220. 

Lady Audley, 8. 

LeBrun, Mrs., 90. 

Leclercq, Charles, 76, 77, 93, 95, 
100, 103, 116. 

Lester, Kate, 204. 

Lewis, Catherine, 76, 77. 

Lewis, James, 39, 40, 41, 43, 46, 
49, SO, 51, 52, 77, 81, 83, 84, 88, 
90. 93, 94, 95, 100, 101, 103, 112, 
114, 116, 122, 123, 126, 128, 131, 
132, 148, 149, 151, 152, 154, 157, 



158, 159, 163, 166, 183, 185, 186, 

195. 
Lewis, Jeffrys, 49, 54, 57, 230. 
Liars, The, 191, 192. 
Lion and the Mouse, The, 163. 
Little Treasure, The, 66. 
Little Minister, The, 186. 
Lodge, Henry Cabot, 191. 
Logan, Olive, 32, 70, 76. 
London Assurance, 47, 48. 
Longman, Edward, 217. 
Lord and Lady A lay, 184. 
Lords and Commons, 109. 
Losee, Frank, 199. 
Lost in London, 27. 
Lost Paradise, The, 170. 
Lottery of Love, The, 113. 
Love for Love, 115. 
Love in Harness, 109. 
Love on Crutches, 107, 109, 125, 

127, 128, 132, 134, 141. 
Love Watches, 209. 
Love's Labour's Lost, 99. 
Love's Young Dream, 75. 
Lover, Samuel, 21. 

Mc 
McCoy, Frank, 230. 
McDonough, William, 147. 
McDougal, Rex, 208, 216, 219. 
McCullough, John, 48. 
McKelway, Sinclair, 85. 

M 
Mackay, Clarence, 48. 
Mackay, John, 48 
Mackay, Robert, 203. 
Magistrate, The, 109, no, in, 

112. 
Majeroni, Mario, 208, 212. 
Mansfield, Richard, 171, 210, 211. 
Marburgh, Bertram, 217. 
Marbury, Elizabeth, 204. 
Marlowe, Julia, 189. 
Marriage of Convenience, A, 190, 

191. 
Marshall, Captain, 195, 202. 
Mashed Ball, The, 171, 172, 173, 

174, 175, 177, 182. 
Mathews, Charles, 5. 
Maugham, W. Somerset, 212. 



240 



INDEX 



May, Olive, 177, 178, 199. 

Mayo, Frank, 30, 98. 

Meek, Kate, 178. 

Mellish, Fuller, 230. 

Meredith, George, 139. 

Merry Wives of Windsor, 88, 93. 

Midsummer Nights Dream, A, 94, 

95- . 
Midnight Bell, A, 170, 179. 
Mighty Dollar, The, 183. 
Millais, John E., 150. 
Miller, Henry, 8i, 165, 185. 
Millet, F. S., 106. 
Milward, Jessie, 200. 
Minna, Madame, 9. 
Miss Hobbs, 195. 
Mitchell, Dodson, 199. 
Moliere, 77, 144. 
Moore, John, 41, 93, 100, 116. 
Moore, Mary, 122. 
Morris, Clara, 90, 91. 
Morris, William, 182. 
Morton, Charles, 39. 
Morton, George, 77. 
Morton, Michael, 207. 
Mott, Lucretia, 11. 
Mounet-Sully, 61. 
Much Ado About Nothing, 217. 
Mummy and the Humming Bird, 

The, 202. 
Murdoch, Frank, 30. 
Murphy, Steve. See Grattan. 
Murray, Ross, 217. 
Music Master, The, 163. 
My Wife, 207, 208. 

N 
Nancy and Company, 46, 106, 109, 

124, 127, 128, 141, 144. 
Nathan Hale, 180. 
Needles and Pins, 83, 84, 85, 109. 
Neilson, Adelaide, 22, 59. 
Nelson, Sydney, 77. 
Newport, 76. 
New Way to Pay Old Debts, A, 

Nicander, Edwin, 212. 
Nichols, Guy, 205. 
Nick of the Woods, 24. 
Night Off, A, 46, 101, 103, 104, 
109, 123, i27> "8, J 34» Hi. 168. 



Odette, 113. 

Olin, Stephen, 159. 

Oliver Twist, 47. 

Olivia, 60. 

O'Neill, Hattie, 33, 37. 

O'Neill, James, 48. 

One Summer's Day, 191. 

Othello, 57. 

Our First Families, 78, 8i, 104. 

Ours, 25. 



Palmer, A. M., 113, 159, 161. 
Parkes, George, 40, 41, 76, 77, 94, 

114. 
Parker, Louis N., 186. 
Parmenter, B. W., 204. 
Pastor, Tony, 104. 
Passing Regiment, The, 109. 
Patten, Thomas, 101. 
Peaceful Valley, 154. 
Perplexed Husband, The, 202, 

220. 
Peter Wilkins, 20. 
Phelps, Edward, 147, 148, 150, 

151. 
Phillips, Wendell, 11, 25. 
Pickwick Papers, 24. 
Pinero, Arthur Wing, 109, no, 

in, 219. 
Players, The, Founding of, 159- 

162. 
Poole, Mrs. Charles, 76. 
Pond, Anson, 163, 165. 
Poor Relation, The, 155. 
Porter, Ben, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67. 
Porter, General Horace, 93, 

106. 
Powell, E. Soldene, 208, 212. 
Power, Tyrone, 21. 
Powers, Francis, 199. 
Powers, Leona, 219. 
Presbrey, Eugene, 171. 
Price, Lizzie, 27. 
Prince, Adelaide, 100, 116, 213, 

216. 
Proctor, Joseph, 24. 
Prodigal Husband, The, 220. 
Professor, The, 163. 



INDEX 



241 



Railroad of Love, The, 46, 107, 
108, 109, 144. 

Reade, Charles, 70. 

Recruiting Officer, The, 113, 114, 
115. 

Rehan, Ada, 25, 33, 35, 37, 38, 39, 
40, 63, 70, 72, 75, 77, 78, 81, 83, 
84, 85, 90, 93, 94, 95, 97, 99, 100, 
103, 105, 106, 107, 108, no, III, 

112, 113, 114, 115, Il6, 121, 123, 

125, 128, 133, I37, I38, I39, I46, 

151, I53, 163, 166, 169, 191, 194, 

195, I96. 

Remington, Frederick, 215, 216. 
Revelle, Hamilton, 152. 
Rice, Fanny, 189. 
Richard Carvel, 198. 
Richard, Daly's servant, 42. 
Richard II, 56, 57. 
Richelieu, 24, 57. 
Rigl, Emily, 70. 
Ringold, B. T., 70. 
Rip Van Winkle, 60, 86, 87. 
Rivals, The, 189, 190. 
Roberts, Theodore, 182. 
Robertson, Ian, 170. 
Robertson, Tom, 25. 
Robson, Stuart, 98. 
Roccardi, Albert, 208. 
Rockwell, Charles, 27. 
Roosevelt, Theodore, 191, 201. 
Rory O'More, 22. 
Rose, Edward, 204. 
Rose, E. E., 198. 

Rosemary, 81, 83, 174, 183, 185, 
186, 188, 189, 190, 226, 230, 231. 
Rough Diamond, The, 47, 52. 
Royal Family, The, 195. 
Russell, Annie, 172, 195. 
Russell, Harold, 171. 
Russell, Sol Smith, 154, 155, 156. 
Ryley, Madeline Lucette, 184. 



Sabine, Martin, 216, 219. 
Saint-Gaudens, A., 175. 
Sampson, William, 100. 
Sanger, Frank, 70, 164, 165. 
Sardou, V., 113, 230. 



Saratoga, 47, 50, 151, 152. 

Sarcey, F., 142, 144. 

Sargent, John S., 147. 

Second in Command, The, 202. 

Sefton, John, 26. 

Selten, Mrs. Kate Pattison, 208. 

Selton, Morton, 208, 212. 

7-20-8, 123. 

Schable, Robert, 20.3, 216. 

School for Scandal, The, 61, 115, 

116. 
Scott, Cyril, 182. 
Scotto, the Scout, 19. 
Scrap of Paper, The, 54, 230. 
Simpson, Ivan, 220. 
Single Man, A, 220. 
Skinner, Otis, 93, 94, 101, 103, 112, 

114, 121, 123, 128, 130, 132, 133, 

142, 156, 157, 196. 
Shannon, Effie, 94. 
Shenandoah, 163. 
She Would and She Would Not, 

114, 122, 127, 128. 
Sheridan, General, 16, 52. 
Sheridan, William. See William 

S. Fredericks. 
Sheridan, William E., 24. 
Sherman, General, 16, 75, 93, 

106, 159. 
Short, Hassard, 203, 212. 
Smith, 212. 

Smith, Ida Greeley, 208. 
Smith, Percy, 203. 
Soderling, Alice, 217. 
Soderling, Walter, 208, 216, 217, 
Sothern, E. H., 210, 211. 
Squire, The, 109. 
Squire of Dames, The, 184. 
Standing, Guy, 202, 203. 
Stedman, Edmund Clarence, 106. 
Stephens, Yorke, 123. 
Stephenson, Henry, 217. 
Stevenson, C. A., 79. 
Stirling, Earle, 76, 77. 
Stockton, Frank R., 106. 
Stoddart, J. H., 180. 
Stokes, Rose, 52. 
Stranger in New York, A, 179. 
Stranger, The, 58, 59. 
Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 139, 151, 

154. 



242 



INDEX 



Surf, 32, 70, 76. 
Sutro, Alfred, 202, 220. 
Sweet Nell of Old Drury, 196. 
Swinburne, Algernon Charles, 
139. 

T 

Taber, Robert, 189, 

Taft, William Howard, 203. 

Taming of the Shrew, The, 25, 
35» 75> 88 -93 ( first perform- 
ance), 100, no, 118, 119, 122, 
"5, 137, 138, 144, 145, 152, 169. 

Taylor, Tom, 24. 

Tennant, Dorothy, 208. 

Tenniel, John, 138. 

Tennyson, Alfred, 36, 139. 

Temperance Town, A, 179. 

Terriss, William, 146. 

Terry, Ellen, 138, 196. 

That Impudent Young Couple, 
183. 

Thomas, Augustus, 205. 

Thompson, W. H., 182. 

Thorndike, Sybil, 212. 

Thorpe, Laura, 76. 

Tilden, Fred, 216. 

Tiote, 81. 

Towse, John Rankin, 116. 

Twain, Mark, 75, 84, 85, 93, 106, 
159. 

Twelve Precisely, 6. 

Twelfth Night, 22, 59. 

Tyler, Fred, 212. 

Tyler, Odette, 182. 

Tynan, Brandon, 199. 

Tyranny of Tears, The, 197, 218. 

Tyree, Elizabeth, 193. 

U 

Under the Gaslight, 42. 



Vachell, Horace Annesley, 220. 

Vernon, Ida, 203. 

Vezin, Herman, 60. 

Vibart, Henry, 219. 

Vicar of Wakefield, The, 60. 



W 

Wagner, Richard, 141. 
Wakeman, Annie, 76. 
Walberg, The Avenger, 58. 
Wales, The Prince of, 24, 52, 125. 
Wallack, Lester, 26, 93. 
Wang, 163. 

Warde, Frederick, 62, 68. 
Warner, Charles, 70. 
Warner, Charles Dudley, 106. 
Warren, William, 79, 162. 
Way We Live, The, 78. 
Weak Women, 47. 
Wheatleigh, Charles, 100, 116. 
Wheatley, William, 8. 
Wheeler, Colonel John H., 10. 
Whiffen, Mrs. Thomas, 230. 
Whistler, James McNeill, 136, 

137. 
White Horse of the Peppers, The, 

21. 
White, Stamford, 106, 161. 
Wicked World, The, 140. 
Widmer, Henry, 130, 131. 
Wilkes, E. P., 76, 94, 114. 
Will, The, 197, 218. 
Williamson, Passmore, 10. 
Williams, Fritz, 164. 
Wills, W. G., 60. 
William Tell, 7. 
Wilson, Francis, 189. 
Winter, William, 27, 54, 93, 119, 

121, 150. 
Wives, 77. 
Wives As They Wer: and Maids 

As They Are, 68. 
Woman's Won't, A, 127, 141. 
Women of the Day, 39, 40. 
Wood, John, 94, 101. 
Wood, Mrs. John, 101. 
Wyndham, Charles, 47, 83, 122, 

123, 151. 



Yeghi, S., 230. 
Yorke, Augustus, 112. 
Yorke, Oswald, 203. 
Young, Brigham, 50, 



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